NiGHTS: Nightmare in NYC
by smileyfox5150
Summary: "We didn't know. Then it changed." Reala, NiGHTS, and Jackle are all transported to the Waking World and immediatley find themselves seperated in the City of Dreams; New York, New York. But this City of Dreams might as well be the City of Nightmares.
1. The Beginning

**Hello, and welcome to NiGHTS: Nightmare in NYC! This story is written in multi-chapter format, and is currently in progress. In the story, we will take a dive into the confusing world of our protagonists, NiGHTS, Reala, and Jackle. They have been pulled from their world of dreams and thrown out into an even stranger one... ours!**

**Disclaimer - I don't own NiGHTS and any related characters or ideas. All OC's are MINE, so if you take them, I get to send Octopaw-ses after you. DREAD THE OCTOPAW! ^_^**

**Summary - "We didn't know. Then it changed." Reala, NiGHTS, and Jackle are all transported to the Waking World and immediatley find themselves seperated in the City of Dreams; New York, New York. But this City of Dreams might as well be the City of Nightmares.**

**Written In - Third Person Omniscient**

**Screen-play - Try to imagine the characters in anime style! It'll make it a much more exciting read.**

**Current Chapter Guide -**

**ACT 1, SCENE 1 - The Beginning**

**ACT 1, SCENE 2 - The Trust**

**ACT 1, SCENE 3 - The Change**

**ACT 2, SCENE 1 - The Kindness **

**ACT 2, SCENE 2 - The Decision**

**ACT 2, SCENE 3 - The Situation**

**ACT 3, SCENE 1 - The Memory **

**ACT 3, SCENE 2 - The Story**

**ACT 3, SCENE 3 - The Winner**

**.::.**

**And so, without further ado, I gladly present to you…**

**NiGHTS: Nightmare in NYC!**

* * *

_I look inside myself and see my heart is black._

_I see my red door and it's heading into black._

_- The Rolling Stones, Paint it Black._

.:THE BEGINNING:.

There was darkness.

A vast, empty black, making all vision impossible.

And at its center, a lone figure. On its back, floating limply, as if laid atop an invisible table in the matrix of the void. Big black boots, connected to white pants. An off-white pheasant shirt, with ruffles at the collar and wrists. A bloody vest adorned with black feathers and adorned by a single rounded ruby encased in gold. Beautiful armored arms bound in muscle leading to cruely clawed hands with pearl pink nails. A face, covered in black and white. Long scars across closed eyes. A jester's cap with two curved tassles flowing out the back, arched proudly and striped to match the outfit.

It twitched.

The gloom echoed with a soft whisper, seeming to come from the end of the murky space. Like a beast locked in slumber it rasped, a steady in and out of still air. The stale taste of sleep rolled through the void, as a voice rumbled.

_Awaken… My monstrosity…_

The red and black jester snapped into consciousness, and immediately flipped into a battle stance; feet spread just so, hands at the ready, piercing blue eyes narrowed. A feral snarl escaped his black lips, soon swallowed by the suffocating silence that surrounded him once again. His eyes darted back and forth, arms lowering ever so slowly. The creature groaned as realization hit him.

_Oh, how quaint. I'm dead. Again._

He face-palmed in frustration, and tapped his foot on an unseen surface absently.

_I'm stuck here until Master Wizeman requires my services._ _Perfect. Absolutely… _

_Wait._

He moved both hands to his face. His cheeks, his forehead, then his eyes were lightly touched by the tips of his fingers.

Gone.

His eyes widened, absorbing the shock of his discovery.

"It's… gone?"

The jester shook his head, checking in the reflective gold of his gauntlets to solidify what he hoped wasn't true. Two icy cat's eyes stared right back, their expression changing from one of confusion to terror.

"My Persona…"

The Nightmaren's mind drew a blank. "Impossible. My Master will return… this is a mistake! Master?" He shouted into the abyss. "_Master_!"

His arms fell limp at his sides. "No. Master Wizeman is alive. I… have failed. That must be the case. I could not carry out his command, and therefore do not deserve another chance. This Hell is punishment for my failures."

He gazed out into the terrible emptiness that engulfed him. "But... I tried. I tried," he whispered. "Is that not good enough?" His voice escalated to a scream. "Am I not good enough for you?" He wrapped his arms around his chest. Though Wizeman was not near, his omnipotent presence still hovered over the Nightmaren.

"In a sort of twisted way," the creature began, "I guess this means I am free. Free, and yet trapped in this eternity." He chuckled, floating on his back. "Funny, I'd think that by the way NiGHTS talked about freedom, it would be a happier thing to possess. No longer am I second-hand Nightmare Reala. General of the Nightmaren Army. No, that title will be given to a new creation." He spat in disdain. "I wonder if my Master… no, Master Wizeman will create an entire new series of second-levels. They were likely all destroyed by NiGHTS and her Visitor friends." He gritted his fangs in irritation. "If I never see those annoying pests again, it will be too soon!"

Reala floated in silence for another moment.

And another.

And several more.

"I can't take it!" he snapped. "If I stay still much longer, I'll lose my sanity! Or what sanity I have left," he grumbled. _I need to just… calm down. It worked in the past. _

He slowed his breathing, slowed his heart beat, slowed his mind. He had to force himself into a meditative state, or go crazy. Last time, he almost had. His lids drooped, and 'sleep' began to wash over him. He had almost completed the shut down, drifting in and out of awareness. _When will I awaken?_ he wondered. _A few days? Or will it be decades? You never… know…_

Reala yawned, and finally closed his eyes. His posture resembled what he had been like at the start, arms folded neatly across his chest. Time ticked on, slow and monotonous around the lulled nightmaren.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Tick tock tick tock.

Tick tock tick tock.

Tick tock tick tock tick tock.

_What is this?_

The jester felt something else. Was it… warmth? The slight heat was unmistakable. It made him yearn to wake up, scoot closer. After a few more wishful moments, he realized he didn't have to. The area around him slowly warmed up, sending his heartbeat into wild patterns. _So much for that idea…_

The temperature continued to rise, going from pleasant to burning. He curled up into the fetal position involuntarily, hands griping the sides of his head. _Stop, please, make it stop!_ He pleaded to an unknown savior with his thoughts._ Master Wizeman, please no… Anything, anything else at all… Give me another chance!_

"Oh, hoo… Oh, everyone! Come quickly, I say! Hoo!" The heat sent spasms up his spine, causing him to thrash against the unseen restraints that bound him down. His eyes cemented themselves shut, trying to ease the torment. _That almost sounded like Owl... _

In the back of his head, Reala heard more voices and the sound of little feet running.

"Is he alive?" said a small, whispery voice.

"Well I'm not going to touch him Snuze, if that's what you want." said another.

He also heard a gentle _whoosh_ of air, directly in front of him. He opened his eyes, then shut them again quickly. _Too much light. _

_LIGHT? _

Startled, he sat up fast, then immediately regretted that decision. _Woah, head rush._

He rubbed his eyes, and blinked them open. He was greeted by a crowd of nervous Nightopians, little fairy creatures, that scattered under his stare.

He reeled, scanning the red desert that replaced the previous blank blackness. The sun glared down upon him from low in the beige sky, and happy screams erupted from a wiry metal coaster in the distance. He dug his claws into the grainy sand, relishing the cool underside of the fine, crushed rock. A tall, purple jested clothed not unlike himself loomed over him. Beside her, a squat owl flapped, his useless dull talons mere centimeters above the sand. He was muttering to himself, "Hoo. Bad idea, I say. Hoo…" Reala returned his weak gaze back to the purple jester. She beamed down at him.

"Welcome back, Rea!"

.:ACT 1 SCENE 1 - FIN:.

* * *

**Reviews are my crack!**

**To my readers; You are amazing! *Air kisses!***

**Until next time, adieu!**

**smileyfox5150**


	2. The Trust

**My disclaimer was in the first chapter, so don't expect another! I DON'T DO RERUNS! Honestly, I see no point in disclaimers. There's obviously going to be published stories written about copyrighted ideas, so the point of having a disclaimer…? Please. If it was illegal, there wouldn't even be this site. It's already are a moot point, so the reason why authors insist on putting a disclaimer before the story starts eludes me. Is it to fill up space before the story starts? Because they think the person who copyrighted the original idea is going to come after them? Either way, I'm on to you…**

**Sorry that you had to read that, just me and my ranting self.**

**All reviews are accepted and appreciated.**

**By the by… let the show begin!**

* * *

_He ate my heart._

_He a-a-ate my heart._

_- Lady Gaga, Monster._

.:THE TRUST:.

_Ouch._

Reala moaned, putting a hand to his head as the world began to tip.

"Reala?" The voice cut through the fuzz, lilac and sapphire filling his psychedelic vision. "Are you okay?" The question dragged a response from his lips, his brain assaulting his tongue to try outputting a logical answer. His speech slurred, slow and thick.

"I… abbltha… am… feeinee. Nevur… better…" The downed jester closed his eyes and began to fall back. NiGHTS caught him, a gentle hand upon his shoulder keeping him erect.

"Everything is alright, just take it easy." she whispered. "It's okay, Rea…"

"Get your filthy hands offa me! Leave me 'lone, you traitor! Traitor…"

He was powerless against the thousands of hands that lifted him off of the ground. His will was stripped from his body, materializing in his hazed-over eyes.

_This can't be real. This… compassion? She hates me. I hate her. I always have…_

Those questions haunted him as his world faded black and he felt his body land upon a bed of rough sand. All feeling eluded him as he drifted through the walls of his mind…

* * *

_Rustle. _

Reala opened his dreary eyes slowly, rubbing his forehead.

Then, he snapped.

"Where am I? What happened? And why won't _anybody_ answer… me?"

He shifted his back against a wall and silently observed his surroundings. He was sleeping in a small wood cabin with swept slate floors. The single bed, tucked into one of the four stationary corners, was simple and boxy. The sheets were soft; off-white linen topped by a handcrafted quilt of mismatched colors. The only other furniture was a few wooden chairs and a round table. Atop the table was a bouquet of assorted flowers, quite fresh. Tulips? Daises? Poppies? Reala had no idea. He had never taken the time to learn about flowers, or any other plant species for that matter. There was a single window by the doorway, letting in rays of golden warmth.

The whole look was quite… homely, if not Spartan. Reala turned his head to see out the window. Lush, green grass and a bit of baby blue sky graced his vision. A few stray bits of sun strayed under the doorway, which Reala interpreted to mean it was early morning. While he was unconscious, someone had removed his vest. It was hanging on one of the chairs, draped perfectly to prevent wrinkles. _Just the way I like it. _His half-lidded gaze swept expertly around the room, looking for any signs of life, though he already knew the answer.

Sluggishly, Reala rolled off the bed onto the floor with a gentle _fwoof_. He blinked while considering inching to his vest - the quilt consumed his body like a cocoon, wrapped in layers of sleep. He was reluctant to get up; he hadn't been this comfortable in a long, long time.

With a sigh he stood, hunched over with the quilt draped over his shoulders like a bear out of hibernation. As he yawned like an old man who needed a good cup of Joe, he folded the quilt onto the bed, arranging the sheets just so.

_Strange_, Reala thought. _Why would someone have a bed, and a quilt such as this? I know Nightmarens don't sleep. I guess Nightopians might... _

He ran his sharp hands over the quilt's stitches. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was covered in patches depicting scenes from the Waking World. It was a _human_ quilt. He shuddered at the thought of him being in some Visitor's dream world. _But there's no bathroom or kitchen… don't humans need those things? Why it wouldn't be included in their building plans eludes me._ He shrugged off the confusing thought.

After another lion-like yawn had escaped his mouth, he stretched his arms out wide. After stretching his legs, back, and cracking every bone in his nonexistent neck, he walked over to the table to put on his vest. He was surprised to find that it was too small. _I've got to make a new one._ All his clothes were handmade, of course. It wasn't like they had a Macy's in Nightmare!

_Maybe something with a little more black7..._

He pondered what other designer changes would be made as he pushed open the wooden door and stepped into the waning light of the morning.

"What…" Reala gaped at the amazing landscape. The single room cottage stood alone at the crest of a hill, almost drowning in a sea of wild flowers, As far as the eye could see, they sprang up to meet the sun. There were millions of different flora; hues, shapes, and smells unlike Reala had ever seen. Each petal folded perfectly, accented by the breaking dawn. Stunned, he slumped down in a patch of soft yellow flowers and remained silent in rapture as the sun rose. It was almost… beautiful.

Almost.

"Hee-ey!"

Reala, instantly on edge, sprang into the air while turning around, only to be met face first with ecstatic NiGHTS. "Bwah!"

They collided and began to tumble down the hill, each holding on to the other for dear life. NiGHTS cried happily as they bounced down the steep face. Reala, on the other hand, was screaming bloody murder. They rolled over and over, trampling springy plants and pulling earth from its place. Coming to a gentle stop at the bottom, the two gripped at the mauled vegetation with stars in their eyes. NiGHTS was on top of Reala, laughing her head off. Reala couldn't help but smirk a bit, it _had_ been kind of fun. Realizing their awkward position, Reala pushed NiGHTS off of him, and stood up to brush the dust and flower petals away.

"Watch where you're going! What are you, stupid?" Reala yelled at NiGHTS, floating atop the grass. He balled his fists, ready for a fight.

NiGHTS responded by barrel rolling around Reala, still woozy.

She couldn't manage to sputter any words between laughs. Reala had had it. With a feral growl, he yanked her up by one of her horns, his other clawed hand closing cruelly around her throat.

"What am I doing here? I want a straight answer." He accented his words by pushing her back to the ground.

NiGHTS couldn't stop laughing, even with her air supply being cut off. "Give me a second! Okay, I'm good. Wait…" NiGHTS swayed into a standing position to roll off a few more giggles. "NOW I'm done!"

"I'm waiting," Reala stated, clearly cross.

NiGHTS flew a circle around Reala. "Your life energy was still very… full of life! Just like me, you were complex enough to be able to stand on your own without being fueled by the Ideya power Wizeman harnessed."

Reala crossed his arms. "And where is my Master now? Presumably in Nightmare… I can see why he didn't desire to bring me back himself. I failed… You here is a testimony to that," he spat.

NiGHTS shoulders drooped. "Reala…" She looked away. "Wizeman is-"

"NO!" Reala turned on NiGHTS, looming mere inches away from her face. "Wizeman must be alive! There can't be no Nightmare without Wizeman… he is a god! If you say one sole thing against my Master, I swear I'll tear you to pieces! I'll eat that pompous bird friend of yours raw! I'll dig my claws into your precious Dreamers' flesh and rip their Ideya out, one by one! I'll… I'll…" He paused, feeling a strange substance on his cheek. He hesitantly touched it, bringing it into view.

A single pinprick of a tear rested there.

"Reala…" NiGHTS' unusually quiet voice brought Reala back to the present.

Reala gulped, gasping for air. "Impossible… I mean… That's impossible…"

"He's gone. For good. And look, even your Persona's missing. That should be proof enough."

His hands flew to his face. "No! My... Persona!"

NiGHTS seemed confused. "Do you remember… nothing?"

Reala didn't respond, but instead stared through and beyond his fellow 'maren. "You… murdered…"

NiGHTS grit her teeth. "Reala!" She took hold of his hand in her viselike grip. "Snap out of it!"

"Murdered…"

"Rea!" She leaned forward. Steadily, she placed a single, delicate kiss on his cheek.

Then, she waited.

"Have you _lost_ your mind?" Reala snapped his teeth together angrily.

NiGHTS stumbled backwards, but felt inwardly relieved. _Back to his normal self… _"No, that's Jackle." NiGHTS retorted. "Now, are we going to sit here all day? I don't think so. Let's go!"

"Go where?" inquired Reala, though by his sarcastic tone one could tell he didn't care. "What could you possibly have that is important enough to require my presence?"

"Just a little... get-together, you might say. Some old friends, some punch, nothing too fancy…"

"You went all out, didn't you."

"Pretty much."

She still had Reala's hand clasped in hers. She began dragging Reala toward a Nightopia Door. He hadn't even realized it was there. The blue door blended in perfectly with the surrounding flower patch.

"No." Reala glared daggers at NiGHTS, straining against her surprisingly strong grip.

"Too bad." NiGHTS lipped.

"I will not go through with this!" If only looks could kill…

"In that case, I'm sure glad I'm not you!"

The door swung open with a _creak_. Calm white light engulfed the two Nightmarens. NiGHTS let Reala's hand go, her arms dangling at her sides. The same though crossed their minds.

_No going back now…_

"Hey, NiGHTS?" Reala's voice was barely distinguishable, even in the pristine silence. He looked straight ahead, not for a second dropping his military stance.

"Yeah?"

"Why?"

NiGHTS turned her face away to hide a sad smile. "Because. I knew it'd fix you."

"Strange word choice. I'm not a Visitor. I can't _be_ broken."

"Missing one's Ideya isn't the only kind of broken, Rea."

"Don't call me that," he quipped. She immediately responded with a casual "Sorry."

The time ticked by in awkward silence. Color started to seep back into their vision, a various assortment of blues and greens, and the occasional splash of red of yellow coming fourth as the details increased.

"Oh, and NiGHTS?"

"Yes?"

"I immediately and utterly regret this decision. And I truly despise you. Just so you know."

NiGHTS tipped him a wink. "Fine by me!"

Though the images were still blurred, sound came through just fine. Reala tilted his head in confusion. He could hear music, talking, and one maniac screaming something about 52 pickup.

_52 PICKUP?_

.:ACT 1, SCENE 2 - FIN:.

* * *

**YOU MUST REVIEW! THE HYPNO-SCREEN COMMANDS YOU!**

**...S.T.A.R.T.H.Y.P.N.O.P.O.W.E.R.S...**

**...**

**...**

**...**

**...B.E.E.P...**

**...**

**...**

**...**

**...C.O.M.P.U.T.E.R.F.A.I.L.U.R.E...**

**...C.A.N.N.O.T.P.R.O.C.E.S.S.R.E.Q.U.E.S.T...**

**Well, that didn't work. Just review, please! **

**Yours truly,**

**smileyfox148**


	3. The Change

**Thank you so much for reading, and remember to review! ROLL THE FIC!**

* * *

_A little piece of paper with a picture drawn floats_

_On down the street 'til the wind is gone._

_And the memory now is like the picture was then,_

_When the paper's crumpled up it can't be perfect again._

_- Linkin Park, Forgotten_

.:THE CHANGE:.

Dear Wizeman, help us all.

Five words of hope. Five words of terror. The only five words he could think of as he stepped blinking into the bright day of the Aqua Garden. The five words most commonly thought of when referring to _him_.

_Jackle._

No sooner had Reala and NiGHTS stepped through the Dream Gate when the red and black jester was thrown onto his back for the second time in the past hour.

"AUGH!"

When Reala tried to get off of the thankfully soft ground, he found himself staring into the childish, grinning cobalt eyes of the aptly named Jackle the Mantle. _Not again…_

"Welcome home! I've missed you! How have things been while on your little vacation? Actually, you should be the one asking me, considering I wasn't in the last game! CURSE YOU, CAMALEON! I really need to talk to my lawyer about that. Ehehehe! And speaking of talking, how have things been while on your little vacation? Whoopsie, I already said that! We shouldn't be talking, anyway! It's your party, for Wizeman's sake! We could go get some food, reminisce old times, play some poker… oh, I like that last one! Let's rally up some suckers, um, I mean players! What'd ya say? Buddy? Pal? Amigo? You there? Hellooooooo?" Jackle was yammering at an almost unintelligible pace, but the only important thing right now was that he had _stopped_!

"Geet oof."

"What's that? I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Jackle screamed, inches from Reala's face.

Jackle had, after tackling Reala, sat his invisible butt on Reala's chest. This crushed the breath out of him, and he struggled to be heard from a mouth covered by the folds of Jackle's cape.

"GEET OOF!"

"Okay, no need to get moody." The Mantle put on a face of mock terror as he slowly retreated backwards, exaggerating every step. "Sheesh."

Reala scrambled as far away from Jackle as he could get. He grabbed the edge of a table laden with fruit and sweets to help himself up. His mouth split into a small evil smile.

"Oh, give me a hug, you big idiot!"

Jackle foolishly ran to him with his arms open wide, expecting a hug. But what he got instead was Reala shaking him back and forth, his hands clasped around where the naïve Nightmaren's neck would have been.

"Why do you have to be so stupid, Jackle? Why can't you for once could you get a grip on life? Why! Why! Why!"

"Waah! I'm sorry, Rea! I just wanted a hug! Ehehehe!"

NiGHTS sighed from a distance. She fiddled with a frayed bit of her vest and took a tall glass from a Nightopian carrying a metal serving tray. She had watched the whole exchange seated at the foot of the Nightopia Door. They had always been this way, Reala and Jackle. Reala was always the responsible one, the 'father' of their troupe. Jackle, the irrational psychopath, stayed the 'child.' She smiled forlornly up at the sky. _I wonder if things will change now…_ She glanced back at the two. Jackle had escaped from Reala's death grip and was now being chased around the party scene, his crazed laugh echoing off the dream pools and aquatic plant life that gave the Aqua Gardens its name. They were scattering the mild Nightopians every which way, the once calm festivities thrown into an uproar. She couldn't help but giggle. _Probably not!_

She was interrupted from her musing by a concerned Owl. "Hoo, don't you think we should, well, intervene?"

"Not at all! This is normal for them. At least Reala seems to be enjoying himself." NiGHTS smiled softly and gestured grandly at the two.

Reala had finally caught up to the maniac, and had him locked in a full-nelson headlock. "HA!" Jackle's jagged grin was stretched taught in a frown.

"This is worse then the time when you made my favorite deck dissappear!" Jackle whined.

"That was not my fault!" said Reala. "Those cards were destroyed in an accident. Maliciously."

Things were finally back to 'normal.'

But something was wrong.

In an instant, NiGHTS and Reala stopped and looked at the sky. Jackle quirked an eyebrow in confusion and looked up at his captor, his tone innocent as a child's. "Hey Rea, why aren't you strangling me?"

"Shut it." Reala's grip loosened and allowed Jackle to land in a heap. Something was wrong. The air seemed electrified, as if lightning were posed to strike. The Nightopians, other than being frightened by Reala's violent reaction, didn't seem to notice anything different.

NiGHTS rose hesitantly above the treetops, searching for the discomfort's source. The coastline was spotless, not a creature in sight. Reala watched her flight, his piercing gaze resting on the sky. The once sunny weather became overcast. Dark clouds formed a gray ceiling.

NiGHTS grabbed a tree's trunk as a high pitched buzz invaded the air, suffocating her with waves of nausea. She rubbed her temples to try and sooth the feeling. A flash lit up the Aqua Gardens, scaring NiGHTS out of the damp tree. She plummeted like a stone as the following thunder boomed. The ground raced to meet her. Her abilities failed to emerge, and time slowed.

Reala raced against gravity. Each foot he gained seemed to pass slowly, his eyes fixated on the falling target. He took a flying leap, arms outstretched just in time to catch the unconscious 'maren. Reala floated back to earth as the sky opened its wet contents onto the party scene. He laid NiGHTS on the sodden grass. "Wake up, NiGHTS!" He shook her roughly. "Wake up!"

NiGHTS fluttered her eyes open. "Five more minutes, mommy…"

Reality sighed with relief. "C'mon, NiGHTS! You had me worried there!"

"Nice to know you still care."

"Crazy."

"Meanie."

"At least I'm not clueless! Remember, you did just fall out of a tree."

NiGHTS stuck her tongue out in response.

"You are just so mature, you know that?"

From the other end of the party, Jackle's voice could be heard. "Hey, unsuspecting Nightopian! Would you like to play me in a few friendly rounds of poker? Was that a yes? I think so! Ehehehehe!"

Owl flapped over, oblivious to what had happened. "NiGHTS! Hoo, it seems we have a, hoo, dilemma!"

NiGHTS held out a hand to catch the falling drops. "What, the rain?"

The coldness of Reala's heart began a slow creep back in. Reala stared down the rotund bird; smirking inwardly while Nightopia's Gatekeeper squirmed under his gaze. "Hoo, yes! What we schedule a, hoo, rain hoot? Ah, I mean, hoo, rain check! Rain check, hoohoo…"

Reala snatched him up by his bowtie, bringing him to eye level. "NO. We are not having another party, not now, not ever!"

NiGHTS shoved Reala with surprising force away from Owl, rebuking him. "I'm sorry, Owl. What Rea meant to say was that we no longer require a party, and thank you for putting this together! Isn't that right, Reala?"

From the rosebush he had landed in, Reala lifted a shaky thumbs-up.

NiGHTS smiled. She waved casually at her shoulder, disregarding the other Nightmaren. "See? Everything's o…" She smiled for a moment more, swapping the space beside her sensor. "O…" She swapped again, with more force. "O-!" She swung her arms in crazy patterns around her head. "Gah! That bee is so bothersome!"

Owl turned his head. "Bee?"

"What, you can't hear it?"

Reala rolled his eyes. "NiGHTS, imaginary bees aren't helping the situation!"

"You're kidding me! You're got to be…!" NiGHTS jumped several feet into the air, clutching her shoulder in pain. "It bit me! The little…" She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her foggy vision. Her mind no longer had control of her mouth, and her arms fell to her sides, dangling loosely. She smiled, rolling her weight from one foot to the other. She poked Owl's sodden stomach with a giggle. "You're big!"

Reala gawked for all he was worth.

"REA!" Jackle flew over, amid flurried of cards. "I was with this Nightopian and then cards and cheating and bets and I DIDN'T DO IT!" he stated, grinning like an idiot. He raised an eyebrow at Reala. "Why are you in a bush?"

"Doesn't matter right now! I need to help-"

"I think you need a hug!"

"No, Jackle, not now!"

"Hug time!"

"NOT ME!"

"Hugs are nice!"

"Let me go!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Jackle, please! Can't you see that NiGHTS-"

"Is being a clown? Yeah I can! Owl must be a clown too, considering how red his face is! Ehe!"

"Bah!"

Reala was imprisoned around the waist, Jackle's head at his hip. _The one good thing about the situation was that I'm no longer in the rosebush, _he thought with a sigh. Reala used the rain to his advantage, slipping up and out of Jackle's grasp, not waiting long enough to see the look on his face when he realized his hug was empty. He pulled NiGHTS away from the embarrassed Owl, holding her up by her shoulders. She no longer possessed the strength to stand on her own two feet. NiGHTS' head rolled around.

"What happened to you?" he yelled.

NiGHTS looked up at Reala while tilting her head down. "Heehee, you're cute!" She batted her eyelashes and laughed like a drunk. "Reeala, you are so cute!" She rolled her head again, looking dreamily off to the right. "Teeheehee!" She hiccupped and fell onto him. She hummed notes out of key, eyes fixated at the floor.

"NiGHTS, snap out of it!" Reala put a hand around her waist, draping her limp arm across his shoulders. "Owl! I… I come here!"

Owl, startled by this sudden demand, flapped uselessly in place. "I'm coming, hoo! Oh hoo!"

Reala trudged through the mucky grass back to the main party. He cleared a table with one stroke, empty glass and bowls containing no more than scraps were smashed to pieces. He lay the loopy 'maren down on the impromptu medical bed, scanning for any signs of drug injection or assault. He shuddered as he gazed into her once vibrant eyes, now glassy and dead.

Owl appeared beside him, molting from worry. "Oh, hoo, what do I do…"

A loud, maniacal laughter erupted from near the rosebush patch. Reala spun around, flying low to the ground. "JACKLE!" The Mantle was lying in a bundle of cape, the laughter coming from within. Reala hefted the cloth far above the ground. "Now isn't the time for jokes!" he snapped. Jackle raised his eyes to meet Reala. They were glazed over, darting every which way as he cackled. "I found a baby bumblebee won't my mommy be so proud of me? Ehehehehehehehehehehehehehe!" He quaked with every dry laugh.

Reala reeled back. "No, not you too, Jackle!" Rose petals were torn from their buds and smashed on the ground, brown and bruised from the continuous beating of the downpour.

His blood was racing.

His pupils shrunk.

A high pitched hum surrounded the 'maren. He yelped, shooting off. _If I can out run whatever got NiGHTS and Jackle…_ The sound pursued, following him like a sonic boom.

He flew close to the ground. Nightopians parted, trying in vain to get out of Reala's way. He drill-dashed away from the party, trying not to involve the peaceful creatures. The land gave way to water. Rain drops splashed off the surface furiously, marring the usually still lake. He swerved, looping water jets and maneuvering through marble fountains. The buzz followed dutifully, slowly but surely catching up. Reala pushed forward.

The buzz stopped. Reala put on the brakes and narrowly avoided another rock cluster. He looked fiercely over his shoulder, but was met with only silence.

The next moments went by in a blink. The hum engulfed him, creating a dizzy sensation. A large blotch moved in, veering through the air towards its target. Reala could only watch as it advanced, his confused eyes trying to find the enemy. _Leave me alone…_The once invisible being appeared inched from Reala's face.

_Yellow eyes … Wait, who are-_

Click.

Reala was thrown deep into his mind, and sat front row in the theatre of his vision. An empty row of maroon seats, a wide display framed by heavy curtains. He tried to stand, but growled in anger when he realized he was shackled to the chair. He had no choice but to stare in resentment at the scene on the screen.

Reala's eyes were paralyzed, filled with unsuppressed rage directed toward no one. His body was stretched in a cross shape, mouth eased open with a silent scream. The Nightopians had fled. Few remained to cry at the horrible possessed 'maren almost lost in the torrent above.

The invisible entity _giggled_. It pushed Reala in the back of the neck, breaking his body out of its rigid form as he fell forward. In his mind, all Reala could do was struggle as he broke the water's surface and sunk into the calm blue.

The last few bubbles escaped his mouth as the translucent world above him faded to black. All noise muted as he closed his eyes for the last time.

Owl looked up from NiGHTS to see the last of Reala's tremendous splash. He yelped, looking back to the unconscious 'maren on the table. "Oh dear, what do I do? Wake up, hoo!" The Aqua Gardens lit up with a blinding flash of lightning. Owl lifted a wing to cover his eyes, but accidentally knocking his glasses off. "Aah! Hoo!" When he finally found his spectacles, NiGHTS had disappeared. "Oh my! Oh dear!" Jackle was gone as well. Reala dissolved into the water, following his fellow 'marens route into the unknown.

_It's over… _

_But… _

_Why?_

.:ACT 3 – FIN:.

* * *

**Hey, do you see that green button down there? Don't you just want to press it? Obey the button! IT CALLS YOU!**

**With love, **

**smileyfox5150**


	4. The Kindness

**smileyfox148: HEYY! I... AM... ALIVE! First off, I have to apologize for two things. One... I haven't updated in an eternity. I'm honestly trying to update each story once a month, and I put my other story on hiatus to continue this one (BE GRATEFUL!) and I'm so sorry! :] My life is so hectic right now, and my family sucks… I didn't mean to take out my anger on Rea, but it sorta came out that way. Oops. Second thing I have to apologize for is the general darkness of this chapter. Lots of blood, lots of angst... hehe.**

**This chapter hasn't been re-vamped much. I decided to only do that to the first three chapters, because of their general sucky-ness. If this chapter does need re-vamping, let me know in a review. **

**On with the show! *Author mutters darkly and laughs to self in her corner as readers stare...***

* * *

_Now the dark begins to rise._

_Save your breath it's far from over._

_- Breaking Benjamin, I Will Not Bow_

.:THE KINDNESS:.

_My head…_

Blinding light seeped in through the edges of black clouding Reala's vision. The light slowly began to change into objects, faded in color by an overcast sky. He saw the dirty, cracked pavement of the street, lined by armies of rusted garbage cans and soggy cardboard boxes. Looking up, he saw the clouds moving in angry patterns and the red brick of the wall he was propped up against. Reala knew he was in what the humans called an "alley." He also knew that an alley was a bad place to be left alone. Yeah, living in nightmares gave you that kind of knowledge. The jester visibly cringed as he remembered all the dreamt muggings.

He tried to get up, but an intense, stabbing pain in his side caused him to shrink further up the rough brick wall. Slowly, he pivoted so he was facing the wall and placed one gloved hand upon it. The wound pulsed, and Reala gave a pained groan and clutched his side in agony. He brought his hand to his face and stared in fear at all the blood. _His_ blood. Reala lurched as a wave of nausea swept over him. Thoughts of desperation flew through his head.

_Where am I?_

_Why am I?_

_I'm useless… _

The jester gritted his teeth against the overwhelming urge to give up and succumb to the calm unconsciousness that was clouding his mind.

"Not useless…"

Using the wall as a prop, Reala awkwardly staggered to his feet with one hand wrapped as a tourniquet around his waist.

_Every step is vitally important. If I can get to a street, or even the end of this alley, someone may see me and help me…_ He narrowed his eyes as he thought. _Or at least kill me._

With difficulty, he stepped away from the wall. _One down._

When he tried putting pressure on his left, daggers of pain shot through his ankle and followed his spine all the way up to his skull. He gasped in distress and closed his eyes to still the headache. For several seconds, he was paralyzed by pain.

_I must have twisted something._

With one eye closed in effort, Reala tried again.

_Right… left. Right… left. Right… _

He drew in a sharp breath of surprise as his left leg gave out beneath him. The jester landed his on the concrete with a sickening crack. Reala hoisted himself up so he was sitting on his knees with an aggrieved grunt. He started hyperventilating, with eyes wide open, staring at nothing. Staring at his white hands gripping the ground. Staring at his blood spreading through the cracks in the pavement.

The gray sky flashed with lightning, momentarily engulfing the small alley. Thunder rolled as the first drops of spring rain fell. It played off his wounds and washed the alley in a wet haze. It streamed in rivulets down his sensors. It diluted the pool of red growing beneath him. But Reala didn't care. All he could hear was _His_ laughter, _His_ scorn.

_"You are weak,"_ the voice whispered. _"You are pathetic. What of Jackle, hmm? Or NiGHTS? They are all alone in this terrible new world. And the best part is that it's all your fault!"_

The voice was cold as ice, sharp like a blade and held an amused inquisitive tone that filled Reala's mind with doubt.

_"You will die. They will die. You aren't strong enough to help them. Hmm, you never were."_

"Master… forgive me!"

"_You dare ask for forgiveness? Bringing NiGHTS to me was a simple task. Apparently, you are inadequate to even do such a thing. No, you deserve what is coming to you. You shouldn't have given up on me so easily, Reala." _

"But I thought-"

"_No, you did not! I cannot die. Foolish creation, I am the incarnated fear and hatred of the Visitors. They are wild, primal beings. They will always fuel my power."_

"Of course," Reala coughed into the pavement. "I am sorry."

There was no response. Time dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Finally, Wizeman's voice returned.

"_Do you still wish to return under my power?"_

Reala's eyes sparked. His voice was a mere whisper. "Yes, my Master."

"_Then come back to Nightmare, young creation. Come back to me…"_

Reala's sight was stolen as the world around him became nothing more than a dull throbbing blur. There he laid, unmoving, as his body bled into the street.

"_Yes…"_

* * *

A few blocks away, Sheryl Lee was finishing up her shift at the D.H. Day General Hospital. The 21 year-old nurse walked down the north wing, going to give a last minute checkup to her current patient, David. David, or Dave as everyone called him, was a blonde haired boy of seven with a million dreams and a severe mystery illness that had forced him to come back to the hospital constantly. He was the sweetest kid, even though he was usually in an emergency room. Sheryl stroked David's head lovingly while turning down the lights.

Dave's storm grey eyes fluttered fighting back sleep. "But I'm not… tired Aunt Sherri."

Sheryl laughed, and replied "All big boys need plenty of sleep."

Dave yawned and continued. "No, see? I'm wide… awake…"

He closed his eyes, and soft snoring filled the room. Sheryl pulled his covers up and whispered, "Yeah, I can see that. Goodnight, Dave."

She tiptoed out of his room and gently shut the door behind her. With a sigh, she began her trek to the lobby. _Why do I have to work at the end of the longest hallway in the hospital? _

She tugged at the hem of her nurse dress and eyed the walls with admiration. She loved this old building. The smell of anapestic clung so tightly to the brick that it would probably still linger long after the hospital was gone. The hospital's CEO decided to move the hospital to a newer, larger building in New York City. Sheryl tucked a stray strand of sleek brown hair back up into her nurse's cap with a sigh. Moving the hospital meant moving the patients. Moving the patients meant moving the employees. Moving the employees meant moving her.

_And I haven't even found an apartment yet…_

The move was going to be completed in about a month and a half. Most of the well patients had already been moved. The larger part of the rooms she was now passing was empty.

Sheryl reached the large, gray metal elevators and stepped inside with trepidation. The elevators were known for their unreliability. She stepped inside and pushed a clouded, plastic button that faintly read "L" for Lobby. The elevator groaned in protest, but eventually began the long decent to ground level.

Sheryl almost leaped out of the elevator when it reached the Lobby. She hated heights, and being stuck in a rickety old elevator did _not_ help. She immediately grabbed reached out to grab onto something solid. Unfortunately, the person she latched onto wasn't as steady as she had hoped.

"Aaah!"

Sheryl slipped, still clinging to the man. They ended up in a pile on the carpet, her face turning a bright, fire truck red.

"Omigosh, sir, I am so sorry!"

She and the young man both tried getting up at the same time, which ended in an even bigger mess. They were both trying to mutter out apologies, and eventually, clunked heads. With an "Oof!" they separated and landed back on their butts. Sheryl was mortified. The young man, on the other hand, started softly laughing. The laughter gradually increased, until Sheryl couldn't help but join in. After a bit, they helped one another up.

"I'm… so… sorry!" she choked out between laughs.

"It's fine!" he replied with a chuckle. "No biggie."

Sheryl got a good look at him for the first time, which caused her to blush all over again. He was quite handsome. His bright blue eyes peeked out from over the top of his metal rim glasses, his messy blonde hair falling characteristically over his forehead. He seemed oddly familiar…

"Wait!" she gasped, "Tommy?"

The young man, Tom, smiled even wider. "Oh my God, Sherri!" They embraced, and stood at arm's length. "I haven't seen you in years!"

Sheryl exclaimed. Tom had lived on her street when she was little; they had grown up together causing mischief and terrorizing the block. "What are you doing here?" she questioned.

"What am I doing here? What are _you_ doing here!" he replied.

Sheryl punched Tom on the shoulder playfully. "I work here, duh!"

Tom shook his head. "My Sheyrl all grown up! I can't believe you got a job before I did!" he gestured to his apparel, a white lab coat. "I'm still in training!"

They walked together over to a coat closet. "Training to be what?" she inquired. She pulled out a stylish white raincoat and a black umbrella.

"A trainer!" he chuckled. "I'm in the Sports Medicine wing of S Hall."

Sheryl nodded and began to slip on her coat. "Have you found a place to stay for the move?"

Tom shook his head sadly. "No, I'm not coming. My internship with Dr. Freeman is over, so I have to go back to college!"

Sheryl pouted, and then shrugged her shoulders with resignation. "Well, nothing to do. Let's try to make the best of the time we have left, I guess. I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

He winked, and wagged a finger. "Definitely! Don't go and disappear on me, now!"

They hugged and, like old friends do, lightly kissed the other's cheek. Sheryl called cheerful goodbyes as Tom went back into the recesses of S Hall.

Smiling, Sherri jauntily stepped out into the city. However, the moment she did her mood did a 360. The streets had become waves, swelling into the gutters and splashing up onto the sidewalk, but the small red awning covering the hospital patio prevented her from being soaked by the torrential downpour. She pulled back her paper nurse's cap to reveal silky tendrils of mussed brown hair. It cascaded in soft curls to her shoulders, bouncing as she swept it back. He held her hawkish nose in irritation. She shoved the now crumpled cap into one of the many pockets on her trench coat, and from another pulled out a flouncy black knit hobo-hat. She opened up her umbrella and sighed.

_No money for a taxi, no money on the subway card, no bus routes running this late… _

She tilted her forest green eyes towards the sky. Lightning flashed a mere second before the thunder boomed, causing the rain to fall even harder.

_It's gonna be a _long_ walk home. _

Sheryl slung her umbrella over her shoulder and trudged out from under the safety of the awning. Paying care not to get her starched white hospital shoes too dirty, she jumped over puddles with childlike finesse as she ambled down the side walk. After a few blocks, the rain had slowed, allowing a few golden rays of sunshine to dot the street. The nurse saw a fairly large puddle spread across her side of the street, and glanced around warily. Seeing no one, she raised her umbrella and took a leap into the cool rainwater, sending crystalline drops flying in all directions. They flashed with the colors of the rainbow, sparkling in the light before returning to the puddle. Each drop creating a little splash as it hit the already rippling surface. Her shoes were ruined, but she laughed to herself with a wide smile.

"God, I'm such a five year-old! And now I have to buy new shoes…"

The water was well over her ankles, and her socks squelched as she waded out. She bent over to take them off, when she noticed something that sure as hell wasn't water. Blurry crimson patches spotted her shoe, turning the polyester a ruddy shade of red-brown. Gaping, she glanced into the puddle again. Barely noticeable under the puddle's moving surface, maroon streaks laced the bottom of the puddle like an underwater current.

_Oh God…_

Heart racing, Cherry followed the faint trail running up the sidewalk. The thin trail grew, leading her up a narrow, dingy alleyway. In the distance, a small figure lay huddled on the ground. Sheryl dropped her umbrella and ran. _It's probably a boy, because of his body structure, can't be more than 16, and… What the hell is he wearing? _Two… things sprouted out of his head, which was curled underneath the boy's body. _I can't see his face…_

"Hey!" She called out to him, getting closer. She stopped a few yards away, and gasped from repulsion. On leg was twisted grotesquely in two different directions, the flesh ripped right down to the bone. Cuts stretched like whip lashes across his back, thin blood trickling down his spine. The gash in his side was jagged and torn, with drying blood forming ridges over his clothing, which was mostly intact, but blood-soaked. His face was still obscured by the rain, which had slowed to a heavy mist. The boy was lying face down on the pavement, his white hands gripping to the pavement.

"Please be alive… please… "

She hurriedly shook off her fears and continued to the boy. Sheyrl knelled down beside him, murmuring words meant to comfort. She was afraid to touch him… he looked so fragile…

"It's ok, I'm here…" She began slowly inching herself closer to try to pick him up. "I'm going to get you to the hospital, it's…" She was mainly talking to herself, trying to push the terrible sight out of her mind. She reached out a shaky hand, and laid her hand on his back.

Sheryl's world went crashing down around her, the sharp intake of breath the last thing she could remember before black engulfed her. Monsters surrounded her, bring alive every dark fear she had ever held. They moaned like ghosts, their ghoulish faces dripping like melting wax as they oozed forward. They grabbed at Cherry as she screamed, ripping hungrily at her hair and clothes. She swatted at them, but her attempts were in vain. The nightmarish creatures taunted her, swallowed her whole in panic. Sheryl curled into a fetal position as they descended, tears streaming down her face.

"Help me! Somebody help!" She wailed for a savior, croaking pleas out between racking sobs. "Help…"

Shrieks that were not her own resounded around her, the evil hands tearing away. From underneath her hands she peeked out, eyes wide with terror. To her great surprise, the ghouls were gone. Her vision was filled with a warm light, the glowing of a golden masque. "Wh…what?"

A red and black creature stood protectively above her, his face covered with a dazzling masque. _The boy!_ He smiled kindly, and extended a gauntleted hand in help. All signs of injury were erased from his being. She gasped in wonder, and studied the creature. He floated a few inches off the black ground, sleek boots connected to well-muscled legs. The things, which Sherri decided were horns, arched gracefully from the back of his head. Strangely enough, he had no neck to connect his head to body or wrists to connect hands to arms. Sure, he looked menacing, not to mention powerful enough to snap her in two, but that smile… So disarming was his smile that she couldn't resist offering her own hand in return. His hand shot out and grabbed hers in a sharp embrace. The boy laughed, a cold, harsh sound, and dug his claws into the soft flesh of her hand. Relief turned to terror as previous traces of warmth seeped from her body.

"No… no…!"

His once marvelous smile became sinister, showing off gleaming white fangs. He slowly drew his hand away, revealing a shining gold crystal, floating between their outstretched arms. Gold dust fell like sand from the center of her hand, bringing a pain that felt as if he had drawn a nail from her palm. She felt hollow; no hope, no love, no compassion, every emotion fading away like the light of the crystal…

The dust swirled around them, creating a vortex that encompassed the two beings, the boy… no, demon… standing triumphant as he mocked Sheyrl, who knelt terrified on the ground. Her hand was no longer dangled against her will, and it fell limp to the ground beside her. Her hair whipped at her face, her tears swept aside and pulled unforgivingly into the wall of golden wind. The demon laughed, traces of insanity marring his features. The once beautiful masque now portrayed only hatred, malice. She tore her eyes away, staring instead at the crystal, its color draining into the creature's hand. But wait… The crystal wasn't the only source of light. A red eye, glowing with malevolence, twitched and grew in his palm as the crystal's power was consumed.

"Why?" she whispered.

Sheyrl strained against the wind that had once glued her to the ground, reaching a shaky hand upwards and grasped onto its hand. The moment she touched him, the eye let out a harpy-like shriek, throbbing as if it was alive. The crystal flickered, and then blazed with white-hot light. In response to the illumination, the eye shrieked louder, closing to shield itself from the raw power. The creature reeled backwards, gripping the sides of his face and screaming in agony.

The monster screamed, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

Without anything to suspend it, the crystal plummeted to the ground, and landed with a hollow clink. Sheryl disregarded the demon, scrambling forward to grasp the stone. She clutched it to her chest, gasping in contempt as heat flooded her body. "Mine…" When she unfurled her hands, the crystal was gone, leaving a faint shimmer on her fingers. She looked up at the demon. He kneeled on the ground, screaming in two voices as he tried wrenching the masque off. One voice was young and charming, the other harsh and distorted.

"I WON'T LET YOU HARM HER!"

"_No… NO! Don't throw away your power! Have you lost your mind?" _

"No, only yours!"

Visions of all the times he had tried destroying NiGHTS flashed through his memory. Hurting her, hurting the Visitors.

"I hurt her… because I thought she was blind."

_Is talking about… me? _Sheyrl was almost too terrified to think rationally. But the moster wasn't even paying attention to her…

The demon's voice was raspy and painstakingly slow. He choked out each word with meaning.

"But I see now... that the only one blinded was… myself. They were trying to help me. I must… help them. I will not… succumb to darkness… ever again," He coughed with effort. "I may be weak…" The demon darkly chuckled. "But I have free will. NiGHTS was right… I am not a puppet!"

The masque seemed glued to his face, stretching and shifting against the creature's brute strength. With a final yell, the masque was pried off, revealing a face…

A round face covered in white make-up. Black lips. Amazing, beautiful iced eyes lined black, narrowed in determination. And scars…

He smirked as the masque dissolved, blew away in the invisible wind as the golden dust fell like rain around them. The demon noticed the gaping girl and turned his back, ashamed. "I am sorry…"

The nightmare contorted, pulling Cherry away from the boy. "Wait… wait!" As he grew smaller, she could see the ghoulish things from before reforming, charging the unaware boy. She cried out, but could do nothing but watch.

* * *

She blinked her eyes open to feel the pouring rain, the crumbling concrete digging into her knees, and her hand against the shoulder of the still bleeding boy. _I could leave… Leave now and pretend none of this happened…_ She drew her hand away, afraid.

"No... Not like this…"

Smiling softly, she reached under the boy and hefted him up into her arms, murmuring kind words as she padded back to the hospital. She couldn't go fast, the cumbersome sensors making it hard to walk. Sun shone through the clouds, landing on the unconscious boy's face. Cherry smiled. "It's gonna be ok." The creature looked do peaceful, so perfect, laying limp in her arms…

On his hand, the impression of a closed eye waited.

.:ACT 2, SCENE 1 – FIN:.

* * *

**Muahaha!** **(Imagine the cliffhanger going on, and on, and on, and on...)**

**Next chapter up soon, happy holidays! **

**See the magical green button? If you press it, cookies will come out! o_0 Don't you just **_**need**_** to press it?**

**So long,**

**smileyfox5150**


	5. The Decision

**YES! You have no idea how proud I am! Of whom, you might ask? MYSELF! Why? I WENT OVER 6000 WORDS! I mean really, how amazing is that! I'm just glad I got this chapter out before finals... Speaking of which, I'm supposed to be studying for right now. Oops, my bad. But back to the story... I've got a pretty intense plot line going on now, so though I may not get chapters out any faster, they'll have a lot more direction. **

**Okayy, Not much else to say here, so read away!**

* * *

_In my field of paper flowers,_

_And candy clouds of lullaby._

_I lie inside myself for hours._

_And watch my purple sky fly over me._

_- Evanescense, Imaginary_

.:THE DECISION:.

_Where..._

A purple-robed creature was laid, face down, surrounded by white wisps. She pressed her hands into the fluffy white material and raised herself with another pained groan. The jester blinked her eyes open hesitantly, and did a double take. "It's… it's my…" Her words forced themselves from speechless lips. With a gulp, she grasped the edge of her fluffy bed and peered over the edge, eyes widening comically in wonder.

She was on a cloud, drifting by as a pristine meadow below her glistened with the early morning dew. The unreal blue sky was dotted by clouds, stretching on as far as the eye could see. They sported all sorts of shapes; triangles, circles, squares, even the occasional bunny or dinosaur thrown in for good measure. Everything here was perfect.

After a few moments of taking in the scene before her and gaping like a fish, the shocked creature let out a joyous laugh, leaping from her perch to plummet towards the rolling sea of grass. As NiGHTS descended, her voice rang clear across the endless plain.

"It's my Dreamworld!"

The warm wind buffeted her face, caressing it as she fell. At the last possible second, she pulled upwards, twirling forward, barley skimming the stretching blades. The dew scattered in all directions, washing the jester's face in the sweet scent of new growth. She abruptly righted herself, bouncing inches above the ground before rocketing skyward. She smiled, open-mouthed and unafraid, her eyes closed in rapture as she drilled holes through the voluptuous white clouds.

NiGHTS hooted to the sky as she glided on the wing of the wind. Her arms were spread majestically like a bird of prey, her legs left to trail behind her. The sensors of her cap broke the airstream with ease, the unchanging green beneath her a blur. _Why haven't I been here before?_ The creature shrugged without breaking her flight and went wide to avoid plowing through yet another stark white mass. She circled around a particularly cubed cloud and landed with the grace of a swan, leaning back leisurely with her arms crossed behind her head. With a sigh of ecstasy, NiGHTS closed her royal blue eyes; she floated mere inches above the cloud's pillow-like surface, loose strands of the colorless stuff gently sweeping across her body. Everything was without a thought ideal, but…

The jester shook her head to drive the thought from her mind. _No, everything is just right._

She couldn't remember living any other way, no thoughts of a place without the lush, mild mornings and unchanging skies. Though there were no creatures to keep her company, but she was never lonesome. "I have all the friends I need; me, myself, and I!" She chuckled to herself, and a T-Rex cloud that resembled a doodle from a child's imagination rolled by, its gap-toothed grin directed at her. "Besides, the clouds are always making up new ways to make me smile!" NiGHTS' faintly accented voice swelled with sincerity.

"I'm never sad, never sick, never hungry, never cold…" She brought a gloved hand to her chin and pondered. "Just… content. And, who needs other people, besides! This way is so much simpler. No name, no cares, no worries…" Again she sighed, but not out of rapture.

The creature's ultramarine eyes no longer shined with the excitement of her flight, but held a fleeting sadness that caused her Dreamworld to drop a few degrees in temperature. Her brow furrowed in frustration. "But… I must have a name…"

NiGHTS moved into a sitting position and rubbed her temples to concentrate. After several minutes of agitated mumbling and forced concentration, her eyes opened, she raised a finger to the sky, and…

Face-palmed.

"Why can't I remember?" she yelled into her hands.

The creature picked her head up to look at the dinosaur cloud. "At least I know you're still…" The cloud was gone. "…there…" She shouted with exasperation and balled up her fists. "What is _wrong_ with this place?"

As if on cue, NiGHTS felt a small, sharp prick in her hand, as if she had touched the wrong end of a needle. "Ouch!" she exclaimed, and spread her hand wide. The image of an eye, complete with blinking lids and a moving iris, shone a regal shade of purple. The jester blinked in surprise. The eye mimicked her, shutting and opening slowly.

"GWAH!"

She shrieked and shook her hand furiously. "Getitoff getitoff getitoff GET IT OFF!" She ran in circles, screaming and flailing her arm, all the while trying to keep the eye as far away from her body as possible. She dashed once, twice, three times around her landing's flat top before spinning out of control to meet face first with the cloud's not-as-soft-as-it-seemed surface. NiGHTS' head had implanted itself into the matter, and her hand twitched angrily. The eye was, of course, unfazed. She mumbled into the cloud. "Why me?" Mid-groan, the jester tried pushing herself out of the fissure she had created. Her arms strained, but she could not pull herself free. Her arms fell with an annoyed sigh. Her head sunk a few more inches. "Oh, PERFECT…"

* * *

"Get back here!"

The usually serene Central Park scene was disturbed by a man's frantic yell. The black boots of a common street thief splashed across the lazy lull of a small stream, minnows scattering as the unwanted disturbance pounded through their home. The thief clutched a brown bag to his chest, not looking behind to confirm his suspicions. A few seconds later, the minnows were disturbed again by a large, black nose. The formidable German Sheppard pulled his head back up, shaking spare drops from his muzzle and barking in the pursuit's direction. The dog's owner, a tall man in the standard navy uniform, pulled his hat down further over his blue eyes to shield them from late spring's glare. His name pin proudly stated; Sergeant Jonathan Perry, Central Park Police Force. Behind him trailed a few rookies, panting as they reached the water.

The first rookie to catch up took one glance at the river and groaned. "We got'ta cross that, Perry?" He pointed crudely at the wet expanse before them, looking up from his bent over and breathless posture.

The first policeman nodded, and narrowed his eyes at the rookie with an annoyed tone. "Yes, Smalls. And it's _Mr._ Perry to you." The policeman, Mr. Perry, hadn't meant the last statement to come across as harsh, but they had been chasing the same criminal for the past few hours.

Smalls groaned. "Mr. Perry, we're not gonna find 'im. That thundastorm helped 'im, it just isn't gonna happen!"

Mr. Perry sighed. The sudden, feirce thunderstorm merely an hour ago had made it impossible to track the theif.

_And I have to admit_, he thought with a sigh, _he knows the city well. _"Alright, let's go!" Mr. Perry gave the signal and they splashed through the stream.

The criminal ran through the water, stopping under a stone bridge as the footsteps behind him grew closer. He could hear the police on top of the bridge…

"Mr. Perry, he's freaking gone! I say we go back to the book stare an' check the surveillance tapes an'-"

"Smalls, for the last time, that stare had no surveillance tapes! That store is over 200 years old, and the owner never thought to install any! Sheesh, what goes through your mind, I'll never… What is it, girl?" The dog looked up at Mr. Perry with expectant eyes and sniffed, pulling him in the _opposite_ direction from the theif. The Sergent, though, was none the wiser. "Good job, Jess! Men, we've got something!"

As the footsteps grew quiet, the criminal poked his head out from under the bridge.

"Yeah, good job, Jessie. You did your part." He smiled, stepping from the stream and removing the wide brimmed black hat that obscured his face.

"But, well, you _are_ just a dog. Ha, when the Serge finds out he was misled for a couple strips of bacon…"

He laughed and smiled, pink lips parting to reveal straight, white teeth. Dark brown choppy hair was released from the baseball hat, the longest broken layers reaching the pickpocket's upper back. The criminal, really a she, she pushed her mussed spikes away from mauve eyes that clearly read, 'idgaf.'

She continued her escapade at a much more leisurely pace. A corner of the bag was crumpled, revealing an age-old book of some kind.

Roller blades popped out from the bottom of her inky combat boots when she stepped onto a concrete path, and she skated through the park, smiling at pedestrians and scoffing at tourists.

She turned down a narrow path spotted with potholes and rubble. The criminal almost passed a secluded stone obelisk resembling the Washington Monument, but broke at the last moment. The skates retracted, and the girl stepped off the path to walk around the statue. She kneeled on the sparse grass, and swept dead leaves aside to reveal a rotted wooden cellar door embedded in the marble base. Throwing one side of the door back, she .retrived a flashlight from her hoodie pocket and stepped down into the musty black that served as her hiding place. The door creaked back into place, so softly that not a single afternoon visitor heard.

* * *

_Fwump!_

Our lovable purple jester fell backwards onto her rear. Bits of cloud were still impaled on her horns, which she quickly brushed off. She looked up, and realized with shock that the 'day' was coming to an end. "A day wasted, if you ask me."

She looked up from brushing her arms off to see the dinosaur cloud had come back. Its toothy smile was wide with supposed merriment. "Oh, so _now_ you decide to show up! Thanks a lot, really."

A strong wind buffeted NiGHTS, almost knocking her off the cloud. There was a voice in the wind, very faint but hearable because of NiGHTS' sensors.

_Ni… S…_

"Wait, what?"

_Ni… S… _

She sprang into the air, looking in the direction the gust had come from. West. West to the dying sun.

Something was outlined on the pink-tinted horizon, bulky and close to the ground. NiGHTS opened her eyes wide and flew, the glowing mark easily forgotten.

"The trail… is gone?"

Mr. Perry stood in complete befuddlement as his men fanned out. His dog sat happily beside him, unaware of the situation.

"Smalls!" Red-headed Smalls came running. "Yeah, Mr. P?"

"Have you found anything?"

"No sir, not even a trace!"

Mr. Perry shook his head. "This is the third time this week. Lieutenant's gonna have my head for this…"

"Cheer up, Serge! We'll find 'im eventually, he has to slip up, an' then we'll 'ave 'im!" The rookie put his arm around Mr. Perry, who pushed him off. "Reggie Smalls, this is no time for your foolishness! These robberies have been going on for the past two months, with no clues what so ever! The entire board is perplexed!" He stopped ranting, and rubbed his forehead. "Smalls, get the men and go back to the station. We have no more work here."Reggie whooped, clasping his hands behind his head as he sauntered over to the other men.

The only woman in the squad walked up to Mr. Perry with a notebook. She was small and stunning, with dark skin and big brown eyes. Her hair was short and curled in tight spirals around her head, and she didn't wear the usual uniform. She had a black trench coat over a pink cashmere sweater and jean skirt, and had large glasses perched on her nose. Her lips were pursed. "Jonah."

He turned. "Yes, Inspector Rebecca?"

She sighed. "We don't have much to work on," she stated, "but I have a feeling we may be dealing with more than just a petty scandal here. Take a look at this…" She handed him a folded piece of computer paper. He opened it with a scowl. A picture of a red brick wall covered by colorful graffiti filled the page. Four predominant letters were at the center. (NO, not that word! Get your mind out of the gutter!)

"Ri0T, huh?"

She shifted her weight, arms akimbo. "Yes. We've found playing cards with _that_ sprayed all over them. No fingerprints, hand writing match-ups, anything. These calling cards have been left at the site of several robberies all over the city; this has to be a new gang. Let's get some more men on this…"

"And extinguish the fire before it spreads." Mr. Perry nodded. "I like where you're going with this, Becky. Good work."

"Thank you, Serge. See you at the station. I'll tell Lieutenant that-"

"That I'm coming in late. I have to check in with the kids first, tell 'em I have to work late."

Inspector Rebecca smiled. "Of course. Bye, Jessiebell." She gave the dog a quick pat before walking off to the station.

Mr. Perry watched her for a moment. He looked to his dog. "C'mon, girl. We're already out here, might as well walk home."

She looked up to her owner and yipped happily.

* * *

NiGHTS gasped. "Oh, wow."

After what seemed like hours of fast flight, the grass became littered with red splotches. The splotches grew the further west she went, eventually completely overwhelming the green. The thing that was on the horizon loomed above her; its hulking form casting a shadow that covered acres.

She landed softly. The large red slips flew into the air around her, so she caught one as it fell. "It's… a rose petal…" The silky softness swished when she rubbed it between her fingers.

"Roses…"

She inhaled sharply as images flashed just behind her eyes. A rose bush… where he fell… red… red like his clothes…his lips move…

Her heart accelerated, waiting to hear the words. All that came was the _swoosh_ of the petal.

_Those were visions… no, memories! _She let the petal float down where it landed silently, undistinguishable from the multitude of flora.

The jester looked back up to the shadowed thing. She took to the air, and hovered forward above the mass of flowers. They spiraled around her, creating a crimson cabaret. The closer she got, the more details stood out on the massive object. It was a rose bush of epic proportions, shaped like the Acacia tree of Africa. Its trunk was as tall as it was thick, and its branches eclipsed the sky. Seams in the wood were wide enough to hold a car. Roots erupted from the earth like prehistoric monsters. NiGHTS' fingers lingered on the dark wood, the eye in her hand long since closed.

"Wow…"

_I need to know more! This feels right, almost familiar. Should I… Well, can't hurt to tr_y. She nodded to herself and shot up towards the inky canopy.

What she didn't notice was the shadow that followed her along the trunk…

The jester pushed through the roses still attached to their boughs, dodging piano-sized thorns. She could only hope she was still going up, the reason being the petals surrounded her. Everywhere she looked, it was red or occasionally brown from a limb.

_It's getting harder to breathe… which means I'm going the right direction. I wonder if there's anything up there? I wonder where Dino went? I hope he's still there! He always makes me laugh and- wait. He's a cloud. Clouds don't talk. I'm alone here. All alone…_

_Creak._

Her train of thought was cut off. She heard something behind her, something tapping on the wood. NiGHTS stopped to look behind. "Hello?"

The wind replied, making the petals flutter like so many birds.

NiGHTS shrugged and continued. She gasped when she saw a few stray bits of light poking through the red. She pushed them aside, and rose up into a clearing in the flora. Sun shone through the spaces in the domed ceiling, casting rippling shadows onto the dark wood branch that served as an uneven floor. The branch was smooth, almost polished, and remained that way until a single knothole at the other end of the clearing interrupted. NiGHTS flew to the wood and collapsed. "So close..." NiGHTS panted, "Maybe I… should take a quick… break…"

_Swoosh._

NiGHTS ignored the sound, leaning back on her hands. The clearing stayed silent for but a moment. The clicking resumed, one round sounding off soon after the other had started. NiGHTS cocked her head to the side to listen.

_Creak._

_Cr-cr-creak. _

"What is that?"

_BOOM!_

The entire bough shook. The creaking increased at an alarming pace. NiGHTS lifted herself from the ground and readied a low defensive stance. "Show yourself!" Her voice quivered. "I'm not afraid!"

_Cr-_

_SCREE!_

A goliath shadow creature erupted from the knothole, causing it to crack apart and send fissures through the wood. It was a dusty black, seemingly made fro msmog. It had two gleaming red eyes that blazed like Will-o-the-Wisps. It reared its ugly head and let out an unworldly cry. It loomed over NiGHTS, snaking baack and forth like a wraith, staring at the small purple jester. NiGHTS joints had locked and she found herself unable to move. Her eyes were mirrors, betraying her inner fear. There was only one logical thought on her mind.

_Run. _

So she did.

NiGHTS frantically flew towards the roof of the clearing. By doing so, she accidentally set the third-level Nightmaren up for the _coup de grace_. It lunged, lashing out at her with its entire body. She screamed it closed around her, crushing the breath from her body and enveloping her in cold darkness. It coiled like a snake and pulled her down into the remains of the knothole.

She was wrapped in smoke that stung her eyes and bit her skin like hail. Her scream bounced off the smog. The jester could see nothing, and feel only the cold smoke pass over her. A faint grey light appeared as a speck in front of her. She closed her mouth and let her frightened tears drip through her captor, knowing what little time she likely had left.

* * *

Mr. Perry strolled lazily through the park, taking his time and letting Jessiebell off the leash. She ran circles around the Sergeant, barking a few times. Mr. Perry rolled his eyes. He pointed off into the middle-left distance dramatically. "Look, girl! A squirrel!" Jessie blinked at her owner, eyes overflowing with joy, before sprinting away to chase after the 'squirrel'. He laughed to himself. "What a stupid dog." He looked up at the green leaves above him.

"Bonsoir, officier!"

Mr. Perry turned around, hands in his pockets. He smiled down at the one who had said hello.

"How ya doin', kid?" A perky little boy stared up at him with wide eyes and smiled back. He was like a mango. Mr. Perry chuckled a bit. The little boy was missing his two front teeth!

"Salut! Je ne parle pas très bien anglais." The boy smiled wider as he continued his exclaimation. "J' adore ton uniforme. Je veux être un homme de la police aussi! Je m'apelle Jaques!" The boy, Jaques, looked down at his shoes with a frown. "What… you… are doing?" He glanced up sheepishly at the officer.

Mr. Perry laughed. "I'm looking at the trees. The way the light filters through the leaves, an' just thinking." He scratched his head. "You… don't understand what I'm saying?"

The kid shook his head furiously. "Non, je ne! Je ne!" He tapped his chin. "A little…"

Mr. Perry bent down to the child's height. "Do you know where your parents are?" He made sure to annunciate every word.

"Oui, ma famille est là-bas!" He pointed triumphantly behind him. "There!" He blinked at something on Mr. Perry's right and moved his pointed finger there. "Un chien." He stated.

Mr. Perry followed his finger. "Wah!"

Jessiebell was sitting there, as if she had been there the whole time. She turned her head to Mr. Perry's and returned his blank stare. "Yeah, a dog."

Jessiebell looked back to the boy, stuck her head forward, and licked his entire hand. Jaques giggled. "A dog." He tried the word out, pronouncing it horribly. "A dog." He tried again, this time a little better. He patted Jessiebell on the head. "A dog!" She barked, moving in to lick Jaques' face. "Eeh, non, mauvais a dog!"

Mr. Perry stood back up, and moved to a bench to watch the two chase each other around the field. He laughed. "Get her, Jaques!"

Jaques turned from the game and waved. "Salut, offici-OOF!"

Mr. Perry smiled at Jessiebell, who had tackled Jaques and was sitting on top of him.

"Off, girl!"

Jessibell complied, and bounded over to her owner to sniff at his knees. Jaques came running, too. Jaques was considerably more dirty; his shirt wasn't tucked, his hair stuck out in all the right places. He ran his little hands through the dog's fur while talking to Mr. Perry.

"Merci oficier, c'était amusant! Tu chien est gentil. Je veux rester, mais sa fait tard. Merci encore!"

Without another word he ran off down the path. About a hundred yards away he stopped and turned around.

"Oh, á bientot officier! Á bientot, a dog!" He waved goodbye, which was returned by Mr. Perry, and took off running again.

The sergeant scratched Jessiebell behind the ears. "Huh, cute kid." He smiled at his furry companion. "The girls will be jealous when I tell them I let someone else play with you!" The dog turned let out a small whine as she looked up at Mr. Perry. He laughed, scratching harder. Then he remembered. "Ooh great!"

Doves flew from the path as Mr. Perry and Jessiebell, who was now on a leash, sprinted for home.

The sun set quickly, and as the last light began to paint the park gold, the bipedal runner had to take a break. "God, I'm getting too old for this…"

He looked up from his hunched over position when he heard his dog growling. "Jess, no more squirrels…"

He was surprised to see his dog in full search mode, the hair between her shoulder blades raised. She barked twice, the signal for 'I have a trail,' and gently pulled Mr. Perry forward.

Mr. Perry looked at his watch and sighed. "I'm late as it is… might as well see where you take me, girl."

He let his dog lead him, one hand on her leash and the other on his side. The hard steel of his pistol seemed dull in the little light there was. The keen nose of the German Sheppard led them to the base of an old oak. She barked once, the signal for 'I found it.' Mr. Perry raised an eyebrow. "But Jess… This is just a tree…" She barked again. He rolled his eyes, but checked the tree for any hollow spots, empty knotholes, anything the thief would use to hide the stolen items. He stood back with a frown.

"Nothing. Just a tree."

He heard movement in the branches, and pulled his gun out of suspicion. A pair of darting brown eyes and a bushy tail stared right back at him before scurrying away. Mr. Perry face-palmed.

"Jessie, it was a squirrel. A damn _squirrel_."

The dog paid no mind to the rodent and whined, pawing at the oak.

The sergeant glanced back up, not expecting to see anything, but out of the corner of his eyes saw a dark mass nestled high in the tree.

_The criminal actually sleeping in the park? Not unheard of, but…_

He put his gun back in its holster and reached up to grab the lowest branches. He pulled himself up with ease, looking back to Jessibell to tell her to stay.

_Wow, this is high up… Joy. _

He took off his hat and pushed his hair back, a nervous habit, and climbed higher.

"What the hell?"

He was at the same height at the person, and this was definitely not the criminal. "Stupid teenagers."

It was a girl, wearing an outlandish purple costume and a just as strange hat. Her face rested on her chest, so the policeman couldn't see it. She was propped up on a lofty branch, sleeping with her hands and feet dangling over either side.

"Miracle you haven't killed yourself falling," he said to the unresponsive teen, "Now I have to bring you back to the station, which will take all night, seeing as I have no backup or phone. God, why did I leave that at home?"

He took his index finger and pushed up her forehead to get a look at her face. He let out a confused string of swearwords. This girl had no nose! Her eyes seemed screwed shut, like his girls looked when they had bad dreams. He waved his other hand in front of her face.

"Hey. Wake up."

He took back his hand, and her head rolled back down. He suddenly became concerned. Mr. Perry took off one of his leather gloves to take her pulse. He grabbed one of her limp arms, and swore louder.

"No writs. She has no wrists. What is this city coming to!"

He rubbed his temples, trying in vain to calm down. "Okay, now what? This day cannot get any worse!"

He groaned. Out of frustration, her grabbed the girl's shoulders and shook her.

"WAKE UP!"

In doing so, he unbalanced himself. "Son of a –"

He broke branches as he fell, screaming as they bruised his body. His vision went black. He didn't even feel his body hit the grass with a sickening thud, hear Jessibell barks and whines, or taste the blood on his lips, for his mind was elsewhere.

* * *

"My head…"

Mr. Perry lifted himself off the ground, sitting back on his knees to fix his hair. He pulled his police hat on firmly, and looked up. "Jessibell, we - _my God_!'

The park was gone, replaced by strange clouds and blue sky. He was sitting on – "What are these, roses?" – veined with chocolate branches.

He shakily stood, rubbing his eyes. "I must have hit my head harder than I thought…"

A rumble sounded from somewhere deep below.

Mr. Perry shook his head. "This can't be happening! What the hell? What am I supposed to do? The girls, and Jessie, oh, what in the…" He panicked, eyes darting back and forth.

The impromptu floor shook, causing Mr. Perry to stumble. He started to stand, but lost his balance. The 'ground' shivered violently, and burst apart. The g-force threw the sergeant backwards. He skidded on his side, sending petals up into the air, and crawled forward to hide behind a small red hill. He took a breath to calm himself, and peeked backwards over the bunker.

_SCREE!_

"Jesus!"

NiGHTS blinked her eyes open, surprised by the light. The third-level had formed an arm, and held her over the edge. She struggled against her captor.

"Let me go! You have no right, this place is mine! LET ME GO!"

She pulled one of her arms free and punched it, right between the eyes. She screamed in agony as her bindings constricted. Her eyes filled with rage, and she fought harder. She had no time to notice the unexpected Visitor.

Sweat dripped down the side of Mr. Perry's face.

His fingers slipped, and he lost another bullet in the folds of flora. With a click, he snapped his pistol together, and turned to aim, arms resting on the bunker. His ungloved hand fingered the trigger, while the gloved hand rested on the top.

_I don't know where I am, _Mr. Perry thought_, but that… that _thing_ is not friendly! Where did it even come from? I have no idea what I'm doing! Okay, Jonah, don't panic, steady, aim, and pull. That's all. Okay. Here we go. Right…_

BANG!

The smoke creature writhed as the bullet pierced its neck. Mr. Perry cocked back the trigger for another shot.

NiGHTS shut her eyes, dizzy from the sudden whiplash. "What happened?"

BANG!

The third-level was starting to fade. Its grip loosened.

BANG!

NiGHTS fell through. A soft gasp escaped her lips when she hit the floor.

BANG!

The third level Nightmaren screamed. NiGHTS floated into the air as it faded into dark matter. "Good riddance."

_Click. _

"Don't. Move."

NiGHTS whipped her head around, gaping at the human who had her in his crosshairs. Mr. Perry took a step forward. "I said don't move!" he cried, nervous and angry.

NiGHTS ignored him completely and gave him a tackle-hug, making him drop his pistol.

"I have no idea who you are, or how you got here, but THANK YOU! You saved me! I thought I was a goner for sure, but not anymore!" She broke away, smiling with blatant ignorance. "What's your name?"

Mr. Perry discovered he could do a remarkable impression of a fish.

"What's my name? My name's Sergeant Jonah Perry! You, little miss- er, whatever you are, can-"

"Jonah! I like it!" NiGHTS interrupted. "Where did you come from?"

Mr. Perry took a business-like stance. "Miss, that's beside the point." He took the opportunity to get a word in edgewise. "Look. I just want to get back in one piece. I've told you my name, so it's best if you tell me yours."He strained to be polite.

The jester tapped her chin. "I think it starts with an N."

Mr. Perry rested his chin on his hand. "If you don't mind, one more question, where am I?"

NiGHTS looked down at her feet. "…"

Mr. Perry cradled his head in his hands. "You've _got_ to be kidding me…"

He felt a tap on his shoulder. Blue eyes met blue. "Jonah? You okay?" He glared, and brushed her off. "This makes no sense. This is just insane! You know what?" He sauntered over a few steps to where his gun was. "I've decided that none of this is real. I just… this is unbelievable. Yeah, that's it."

He reached down to pick up his gun, but was surprised to find it wasn't there. "Huh?" He turned back to NiGHTS. "What trick are you pulling?" NiGHTS just shrugged. He put his hands in his pockets, and mustered all the sarcasm he had left. "Well, miss, what do ya suppose we do now?" He felt something settle on his shoe, but shook it off.

The purple jester giggled. "You might want to move."

"Move? Why should I…" He took a step towards her, but was stopped. He looked down, eyes wide as he watched thin brown plant stems growing up his pant leg. He pulled harder, but was rooted in place. Similar stems began growing up his other leg as well.

"Hey, lend me a hand!" He reached out to NiGHTS.

She smiled. "Not so high and mighty now, huh?"

He rolled his eyes, causing NiGHTS to laugh again. He sighed, "Just help me out, here."

She smiled genuinely. "Of course, Jonah."

She reached out her hand, and their fingertips almost met. Confusion crossed the jester's face. She reached further, but got no closer. She looked behind, and yelped. The same vines had attached to her boot, and steadily latching on to her legs. Two more vines shot up from the space between the Nightmaren and Visitor, latching on to NiGHTS' arms. Jonah could only watch as the vines weaved into an intricate pattern across her back, forcing her to hang with her arms above her head, palms spread one atop the other. NiGHTS cried out in pain as a red eye cracked open in the center of her hand. The pulsing, twitching thing caused Mr. Perry to flinch in disgust.

The air chilled and the blue sky turned to black as a dark laugh echoed around them. "_NiGHTS…"_

The girl struggled, trying to detach herself from the organic chains.

"_Remember. Remember… everything!"_

Her eyes snapped open. "Wizeman!"

The voice chuckled. "_Yes, my clever little creation. If there's one thing you should already know, I cannot be annihilated. Reala is mine again, my perfect soldier… but you! Pity you had to leave us._ The voice crooned. _I almost feel bad about what I am about to do."_

Two thicker vines came together in front of the jester, melding and changing until they made a wooden masque. This masque morphed until it was gold with two blue feathers sticking up between the eyes, perfect to fit her face with two holes for her cat-like eyes.

The jester, NiGHTS, seemed completely terrified of the thing. "NO!"Mr. Perry pulled a pocket knife from his pocket and started hashing at the stems.

NiGHTS continued to fight back. "I am not your puppet, Wizeman! I would rather die!" She spit onto the masque.

Jonah jumped off the ground, and ran to the 'maren. "NiGHTS!"

"_Haah, such a pity. Now…!"_

The masque lurched towards NiGHTS' face. The 'maren gritted her teeth and thrashed, finally pulling one hand free. She extended her hand, small tears forming in her urgent eyes. "Jonah!"

He leaped towards her, the tips of his ungloved fingers grazing hers.

A bond of white light formed between their hands, and NiGHTS shouted in joy. The white wavered and then expanded, filling the two in a sphere of light. Mr. Perry felt himself go transparent, but he smiled. _This feeling! I might as well be a kid again! This is incredible! _

When he opened his eyes and looked down, he saw he was floating! "How…?"

He heard someone laugh from the back of his head. "We Dualized! And look!" He felt that someone's mind take over, spinning him around in a graceful areal loop.

"…NiGHTS? That you?"

"Yessir! And seeing the situation we're in now, I think I'm going to take over."

NiGHTS pushed his mind back, making him take a 'seat'.

NiGHTS swam gracefully through the air.

"See, Wizeman?" NiGHTS addressed the sky, "You'll never win!"

NiGHTS flew away from the sun, shortly landing on the roses for effect. While moving, she looked over her shoulder to see the masque turn to stone. She winked, and pushed off.

They dove over the edge, accelerating past the weight of gravity. Both NiGHTS and Mr. Perry screamed, and tears were pulled from their eyes as the adrenalin rush kicked in. NiGHTS preformed a liquid barrel roll, catching falling petals in her arms and throwing them to the side. She drill dashed close to the ground, laughing wildly as they raced away.

They could faintly hear the bellowing voice roar in rage, but neither the Nightmaren nor Visitor cared.

"Jonah!" NiGHTS cried over the wind.

He called back, "What?"

"Thank you!"

"Whaat?"

NiGHTS rolled her eyes with a playful but knowing sigh, and arched towards the green blur that was earth.

Mr. Perry's breath caught in his throat. "NiGHTS! We'll crash! NI-!"

_Goodbye, Jonah..._

* * *

Mr. Perry gasped, sitting straight up. He stared into wide, brown eyes. The owner of the eyes whined, and licked Mr. Perry's face. The sergeant patted his dog on the head shakily. "Jess. Good girl."

He breathed heavily, finding it hard to catch his breath. He looked around. "Back in Central Park… God, how long was I out?" The moon was low in the sky, each lamp lit down the stone path. He could see the city lights through the trees. Speaking of trees…

He used the oak to pull himself up, and shot a cautious glance up into the branches. Against the fake light that came out of the skyscrapers, he could see the still form of NiGHTS on her branch. He gulped for air, mildly surprised when the rusty taste of blood smeared against his tongue. He spit into the grass and pulled himself into the tree with newfound energy, ignoring Jessibell's whimpers.

Jessiebell waited, pacing back and forth nervously.

When Mr. Perry came back down, he carried the lithe form of the sleeping 'maren in his arms. His expression was soft, Jess noted, but she thought little of it. She followed dutifully beside her owner as they finally walked home, their black silhouettes stretching far behind.

A single torn rosebud fell from the brim of his hat and tumbled into the dirt, forgotten.

Mr. Perry's eyes hardened, his thoughts preoccupied him. _Life's tough, but… I can't imagine what hell she's been through…_

He looked down to the serene face of the strange girl in his arms. _NiGHTS… I want answers. _He set his jaw and looked up to the navy sky.

The brisk click of his shoes echoed through the night. Loud, unheard…

And alone.

.:ACT 2, SCENE 2 - FIN:.

* * *

**DU DU DUUH!**

**Well, that didn't exactly come out the way I had planned... Why do things always make more sense in my head? MMM, STRAWBERRY MILK. Aha, I had to use the 'Billy Mays' button there. Strawberry milk is amazing, tho. It helps me write! **

**About the French part - Well, I take French as a language, so I just had to squeeze some of that in there! If you have no idea what it means, copy and paste it into Googler Translator. **

**Make sure to review! It helps me along. :]**

**smileyfox5150**


	6. The Situation

**Mmk. Review. kthxbai**

* * *

_It's just a phase you're going through,_

_Someday you'll know just what to do. _

_- Hey Monday, Josey_

.:THE SITUATION:.

Night is like no other. It washes the city in hues of navy and chocolate, leaving a taste on sweet freedom on the wind. As the sun sets and the city lights up anew, denizens of the underground rise and stake their claim to the city. Taxi drivers roll down their windows to holler at ladies dressed in the bare minimum and heels, knowing all too well their profession. Mismatched outcasts slumped up against building corners, toting a variety of substances. Every other block housed street wise gang members, dressed in black and ready to tussle. Yes, the night was different. Some even gander to call it dangerous, for the perfect chaos is often too hard to resist. Only morning's light could reveal who had fallen for the trap, the few left behind to litter the ground in a drunken stupor. There is a different set of expectations at night, but the first and foremost rule is this -

There are no rules.

Under the yellow glare of a streetlight stood a dingy doorstep. If one listened, the sound of footsteps could be heard spiraling down from the top floor. The door rattled, and a loud curse could be heard from inside. A series of _bangs_ followed, until at last the door finally opened , scraping stiffly against the concrete pavement. An older teenager stormed out, dressed in a simple deep brown t-shirt and gray cuffed sweats. Over one shoulder hung a soft but worn black jacket, and in her hand, a navy backpack. Her feet were kept in light blue and onyx striped socks and moccasins. The only thing unusual about her appearance was her hair, which was tinted a murky, ruby red. It was obviously dyed, and fell in soft waves to the small of her back. She ran her hair through her bangs, sighing. She glared back at the building.

"Damn door!" She pulled the jacket on angrily. "Damn renters that wouldn't _fix_ the damn door if it would save their pointless lives!"

She raised a fist to an invisible figure several stories up. "Go to hell!" She stuck her hands in her pockets, eyes trained on the ground. "Do us a favor, why doncha."

She took one last glance up, both hopeful and afraid that someone had heard her outburst. She shrugged, nonchalantly trudging down the sidewalk. Any passerby would believe she was heading to a friend's home, or night classes at a nearby colledge, but she hadn't been to either one of those places in at least a year.

"Hey, Josey!" A cacophonus voice erupted from the building.

"Whaat?" The girl, Josey, screamed back.

"You forgot your keys again!"

A look of blank surprise crossed Josey's face. "Oh, yea."

She looked up just in time to avoid being hit in the head by a falling key chain. She shoved them into her pocket. "Thanks, Mrs. Cay!"

She swung the old backpack onto its rightful place, not waiting for an answer. She reached the end of the block. _Just gotta make it through one more night at Kale's, then I'm free for the weekend. I need to go to the grocery store, get milk, eggs, strawberries, bread, lunch meat… I need a pen._ She searched her pockets, eventually finding a black ball point pen. She started scribbling on her palm, unaware of the world around her. _… and some Eggo waffles. Oh, and I'm going out with Rufey on Saturday. _She clicked the pen closed and sighed._ God, please don't let me get stuck with the night shift _ever_ again, please, please, please-_

_HONK_!

She was startled out of her thoughts by a loud noise and very bright pair of headlights. Her scream caught in her throat. A bright yellow taxi rushed past, missing her by less than an inch, but instead claiming her backpack as its prey. The old navy bag was flung into the middle of the road, its contents littering the desolate street.

The young adult yelled after the taxi. "Get off the road, jackass!" She balled her fists, half considering going after the taxi herself, but instead stomped out to where her things lay scattered. She scrambled to pick them up, her fingers shaking. She paused to try and calm her nerves. Mumbling curses about stupid drivers, she shoved her things back into the bag. In went a black pencil skirt, white button-down, black bowtie, black stilettos, several multicolored pens, and other small scraps and items.

She sighed, finally picking up the filled backpack. It shuddered, ripped, and spilled open. A growl built in Josey's throat. "You've _got_ to be _kidding me_!"

* * *

Fifteen minuets later, a rusted gray door slammed open, revealing a disgruntled, much- less-than- happy Josey.

She stepped into a world of cigarettes, lights, and booze. Smoke murked in the corners, where dark green velvet tables covered in chips and coins marked the start of an evening's losses.

The man behind the bar motioned for her to go get dressed. She was already late as it were. She rushed past the tables and chairs and went into the "Employee Lounge," which was really just a room with a table, a few chairs, a set of lockers, and a TV.

Josey quickly changed into her uniform, which was thankfully intact for the most part after the spill.

She went back to the man behind the bar. Though he didn't own the place, he sort of ran it for Mr. Kale. The 40-some year old man wore silver rimmed bottle cap glasses and had a silver goatee to go along with his thinning prickly hair. "You have table 12 tonight, Joe," he told her.

"Thanks, Wally."

She waltzed over to her table and sat down. She looked over the faces of each less-than-pure looking person seated with her, and began to deal. One man kept eyeing her legs.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Josey narrowed her eyes in aggravation. That… _creep_ was still following her around. It didn't matter what table she sat at, who she got drinks for, where she went. "I swear, I'm gonna slap him. See if I don't," she said offhandedly to Wally.

The bartender smiled. "Go take a break. Senor McGrabby Hands won't be able to follow you."

Josey stalled. "You wouldn't tell Mr. Kale?"

"Josey, really. I think by now you'd be able to trust me more. I'm injured," he teased.

"Yeah, well I know _someone_ whose _gonna_ be injured if they don't quit followin' me," she murmured darkly glaring at the flabby faced man who was eyeing her over the rim of his gin and tonic. "Thanks."

She wiped her hands on her skirt and went into the "Employee Lounge." There was a door on the opposite wall that led to the roof. She pushed the door bar down and climbed the stairs. The concrete steps sounded think beneath her heels. Once she reached the top and pushed the door open that led outside, she felt the stench from the house practically lift off of her with the cool breeze from outdoors. She left her heels at the door and walked over to the roof's edge barefoot. She leaned over the side of the building, taking a breath of fresh air. Looking out, over the lights an hustle-bustle of the city, it alsost made it worth it to have to work the late shift.

Josey noticed something that wasn't normally on the rooftop. It was a pile of orange clothes.

_Actually, it's more of a tablecloth,_ she remarked to herself.

She moved closer to inspect it.

It was beautifully intricate, and looked like it belonged to some kind of performer. Curious, she prodded it with her toe.

In a flash, her world was gone.

The lights from the city were replaced by endless black. The pile of clothes was now hanging in front of her, drooped like some unused doll. Then, the horned head of it looked up at her, smiled with a hideous mouth of teeth that would have put Jaws to shame, leaned over…

And said, "Boo."

Josey mentally reached out and sucker-punched it right in the kisser. She blinked a few times as the starless sky and familiar city buildings came back into place around her. She shook her head and backed away from the tablecloth. "Weird. That's it, no more 'fresh air' for me. The fumes from the smoke must be getting to my head or somethin'."

She slipped her shoes back on and walked down into the bar.

Unnoticed, the 'pile of clothes' moved a little, and mumbled, "Ouch. I hurt all over."

"But _why_ does my jaw hurt the most?"

.:ACT 2, SCENE 3 - FIN:.

* * *

**Please remember to review! Encouragement is encouraging! **

**- smif**


	7. The Memory

**I'm back, bitches! kisskisshughug. :)**

* * *

_All this pain. Take this life and make it yours._

_All this hate. Take your heart and let it love again. _

_You will survive it, somehow._

_'Cause life starts now. _

_- Three Days Grace, Life Starts Now_

.:THE MEMORY:.

It was dark.

But he knew he was not alone.

He was lost.

But he knew he would be found.

He was suddenly very small. He looked at his claws, surprised at their lack of sharpness. He walked forward, his steps off balance and uneven, like those of a child. Looking at his feet, he noticed that they were clothed red and black. He took a few more uneasy steps, teetering like a toddler. He hated that. He was unsure as of why, but he knew he didn't like that feeling. That helplessness. He saw something before him, and looked up. There was a fearsome metal contraption before his eyes, with nine spikes sticking every which way. He knew very little, but he knew this was a face.

"_Welcome to existence, child." _

Though the face had features, it spoke with a deep, bellowing voice that commanded attention and respect. The little being was very afraid, and cowered. It was then that he first noticed the two horns that curved out from his skull.

The entity before him chuckled. _"Do not fear. I am Wizeman the Wicked, your creator. I shall not bring you any harm, little one. I promise."_

The child was soon seated in the palm of an enormous metal hand. He threw his arms around the hand's thumb, afraid of falling.

"_My child,"_ Wizeman chided, _"You were not meant to be afraid of heights. I have given you a most wondrous talent - the gift of flight."_

The child hesitantly let go, peering over the edge. There was no floor in sight.

"_Go on, now,"_ his creator urged. _"Try." _

He was not given a chance to think. The hand spilled him out.

The child's mouth ripped open into what would become his first scream.

That same scream was quickly stopped, when a low, rumbling laugh interrupted it.

The child looked up at Wizeman, curious. It was then that he realized he was no longer falling!

He paused, smiled, and spun around. Wherever he went, there was glitter!

The child laughed along with his creator.

But he soon decided that laughter wasn't enough. He wanted to make words, communicate like his creator did.

He didn't know how, but if they could laugh the same, they could speak the same, right?

He coughed a little and tried. At first, all that came out was a squeak. He squeaked again, this time moving his mouth a little wider. "Waah," he sounded, "Waaah." The hand came back. Its eye watched him eagerly. "Waaaize." The child frowned a little. That wasn't quite right…

"Wize."

The little one's eyes lit up. He laughed, clapping his hands together. This wasn't so hard!

"Wizeman! Wizeman, Wizeman, Wizeman!"

"_Very good, child."_ The hand lifted him up, and carried him back to be level with Wizeman's head.

The young one had a question. The words were coming easily to him now. He was _made_ with fluency.

"If you are Wizeman," he asked, pointing at the metal head, "then who am I?" He redirected his finger towards his own chest.

"_Master Wizeman, my son._" The entity commented offhandedly. It paused for a moment to ponder.

"_You, dearest child, shall be Reala."_

The little one, newly named Reala, smiled a toothy grin. He liked having a name. He liked it very much.

But, he still felt alone. He furrowed his brows in confusion. There was something else, he could feel it. It was like a physical pain, a tug from deep inside his chest.

"_Reala, I have something to show you." _

Reala came back to attention. A second hand floated up next to him.

On it rested a purple bundle, around his same size. Said bundle looked up at him with big, blinking blue eyes. Her lips were parted slightly, as if a question were dancing on her tongue.

Reala was stunned. He reached forward.

The purple one did the same.

All it took was a touch. One tiny contact and their worlds were intertwined. Each knew the other completely.

He was lost in her deep blue eyes, watching his reflection in them. Only then did he notice their differences.

Where his skin was pale blue, hers was creamy beige. She had a real red gem in her chest - his was just a series of 2D diamonds. Where his horns were striped black and red, hers were simply lavender. She looked gentle, and innocent. _I just look scary…_

"You're not scary, Reala!"

Reala's eyes opened a little wider. Then, she laughed.

Her laugh was magical, unique. It sounded like the pulling up of a window shade and the clinking of ice cubes against glass. It was the crinkles on the corners of her eyes. The way her eyes almost vanished, but the hint you could see sparkled. Oh how it sparkled. It was like dew on the grass, a planet in the sky. It sparkled a little brighter, twinkled a little harder. It was beautiful see and impossible to forget.

"_Reala, this is NiGHTS." _

His mouth moved to say her name, but the words died on his lips. It was all whisked away from him. The world around him became swirled with blues and dark purples, with NiGHTS as his focal point. An orange figure joined the swirls for a moment, whispering, "I know a secret. I know…" before being washed away. The little NiGHTS grew, and so did he.

Things snapped back into focus, too quick to question.

"_You will be punished for your defiance, NiGHTS."_

The hands that were once so friendly now descended with deadly intent. Reala was on one knee, head bowed, staring into the nonexistent ground beneath him.

He knew what was going to happen.

But he didn't want to.

Her scream filled the space's endlessness. It rang into his ears and cut through his soul. He wanted to stop it, but…

But he couldn't.

NiGHTS… she deserved this. She disobeyed her Master, and mustn't rule breakers be punished? Isn't this justice?

"_NiGHTS, there is still a chance. Will you return as my servant?"_

Reala looked up, a pleading hope in his eyes. It wasn't so hard. Why did she have to be so difficult? Master Wizeman had given them life, and he could just as easily take it away. It wasn't so hard to follow his will. Master Wizeman was destined to rule over the entirety of the Night Dimension. Wasn't he always right?

NiGHTS could barely stand. She looked so thoroughly drained…

But still she sneered, spitting out her own death wish. "Never!"

"_Then I have no further use for you. I consign you to oblivion!_"

"STOP!"

A red and black blur came between them. Reala's hands were thrown forward, as if he thought they could stop the wrath of a god. Tears glittered in the air like precious diamonds, perfected from mere stones under years of pressure and heat. They hung in the heavy blackness for a moment before plummeting down, disappearing among the black folds of nonexistence.

Wizeman's hand regarded him curiously. _"Reala, you have always been loyal. Why the sudden change?"_

Reala looked terror stricken. He looked back and forth, from the shocked NiGHTS to the curious Wizeman. Terror mixed with confusion wasn't one of his normal emotions. He didn't know what to do.

"…_I see. I see what has happened here," _Wizeman said as his hands slowly retreated, contemplating. "_She had affected you."_

"What?" whispered Reala.

"_She has lied to you, shown you fake dreams of fake beauty in a fake Nightopia to try and turn you against me." _

NiGHTS reached forward to hold Reala's hand. "Reala, don't-"

"_SILENCE! She has convinced you that such beauty should be preserved. Well, that beauty was all a lie. Nightopia is a warped place, controlled my Visitors who are greedy and selfish. The only true beauty is the austerity of Nightmare. The darkness, the encompassing power - that is true beauty."_ The menacing hand came closer, inspecting his creation. _"Those eyes of yours… they have been tainted. Tears,"_ spat Wizeman, _"are not a Nightmaren reaction. They have become imperfect."_

"_Imperfections must be fixed." _

He heard the release of energy before he saw the light, and felt the pain. His face was burning, his soul seared. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to hide from the agony, but no matter how he tried to turn away or curl up, he could not move. He was held to this searing torture.

"No! REALA!"

He could barely hear NiGHTS' screams over his own.

The unforgiving light finally faded away, finally let him fall defeated to the floor where he belonged. Slowly, ever so slowly, he curled into himself, trying to block out everything.

"Wizeman! What have you done!" screamed NiGHTS.

"_You would be wise to forsake your rebellion, NiGHTS. Unless you wish to undergo the same fate as my other servant."_

"I will never be your puppet! You are cruel and wicked, and I'd rather spend the rest of eternity locked in a cage then _ever_ call you my Master!"

Wizeman laughed darkly. _"That can be arranged."_

Reala felt the _whoosh_ of air as one of Wizeman's hands passed over him.

"Let me go! Get your hands off me! I won't let you hurt him! No, stop! Reala!"

The room wavered as the space of the Night Dimension was torn. Then, all was silent.

Reala felt hollow. His mind raced, trying to quell the flames of pain and answer the question of why.

_This is all her fault. Everything is her fault. _

She was the answer to everything, every single _why_ that popped into his head. Ask any question, all fingers pointed to her.

"_Reala."_

Reala shuddered. "Yes, M-Master Wizeman." He tired to stand, but when he opened his eyes, the world was blurred. His perfect, cats-eye vision was gone. The hurting in his body had dulled, concentrated in two long slashes across his icy eyes.

He stumbled. Surprisingly, one of Wizeman's hands was there to catch him.

"_My most loyal servant, my faithful creation."_ Wizeman's voice was no longer menacing, but gentle and slow, like he was explaining the reason behind a time-out to a child.

"_I am not sorry for what I had to do. You brought it upon yourself."_

Reala nodded numbly. He closed his eyes, ashamed at his new lack of vision.

"_But I have something for you_." Reala didn't dare open his eyes, but he felt something being laid upon his face gently. _"Now, open your eyes."_

Reala hesitated.

"Now_, Reala."_

So he did. The foreign thing on his face framed his eyes. It was cool against his skin, and seemed to dilute the sting of the marks left from his punishment.

"_What I have given you is called a Persona. It is a symbol of your loyalty to me, as my second hand Nightmaren."_

Reala knelt. "Thank you, Master Wizeman." He felt… strangely happy. His Master had given him a new purpose.

Two of Wizeman's hands cupped around him. One held him in the crook of its palm as if he were a fragile doll, almost cradling him. The other changed to a mirror, showing Reala his new reflection.

"_Do not worry. NiGHTS will never be able to hurt us again." _

Again, his world whirled. He was trapped in a sphere of conflicting colors and emotions, helpless against the forward flow of time.

His Master had broken another promise.

Reala watched helplessly as Wizeman disappeared. NiGHTS had finally done it, killed their creator. He saw NiGHTS start to disappear, too. Right along with all of Nightmare.

He felt disembodied. His being started fading away. His treasured Persona danced off of his face, just a little more than arms reach away. It hung there in the disintegrating room, teasing him. He reached forward to grab it, return it to its rightful place, but was stopped. Something was holding in to his arm.

He turned. There was NiGHTS, just as disembodied as he, smiling. Asking him to go with her silently. But, then again, there was the Persona, promising him power, his Master…

His decision was made before it even came to his mind.

The moment his pale hand touched the gold metal of the Persona, it snapped back into place like a magnet. He felt so strong, so limitless. He felt within him a deep, dark purpose calling to him without a question.

He dragged his claws through NiGHTS' face, grinning as she washed away like smoke on the wind.

He cackled. "NiGHTS is nothing!" he cried. "Who is NiGHTS? There is no NiGHTS!"

Reala smirked, looking towards the dark ground below him where shapeless third-levels swarmed around something small. He had a Visitor…

* * *

Reala's eyes fluttered. He was waking up from a dream. _No, not a dream. Nightmaren don't dream. It was a memory. That was what happened bef__ore… before the Visitor…_

_The Visitor!_

Reala was completely awake now. His eyes swept the room, noting the bare white walls and interesting machinery. There was a thin blanket lightly laid over his body. A human male was asleep in a chair in the corner of the room, with a clipboard in hand and a thin line of drool trailing from the corner of his mouth.

One of Reala's legs was completely wrapped in bandages, rendered immobile. More bandages wound their way around his entire torso. He noticed, with an awkward twinge, that the majority of his clothes were folded on a table at the foot of the hospital bed he was propped up in.

Then, he noticed how terribly uncomfortable his horns were.

There was a black box thing with many squishy buttons on the bedside table next to him. He threw that at the sleeping human's head.

The human was awake in a snap.

"Gah! I'm sorry I fell asleep, Sheyrl, but did you have to throw the remote at my…" The human looked up, slightly shocked. "…face?"

Reala felt extremely self-conscious under the human's gaze. "You. Mortal. Where am I?"

The human shrieked. Reala felt quite pleased with himself. _I'm not even in Nightmare and I scare the stupid humans. Not too shabby._

The human ran his hand through his blonde hair, scared senseless. "Sh-sh-sh-Sherri! It w-w-woke up!" he squeaked.

_It? I am not an it!_ His head was still reeling from the whirlwind of memories. But, as usual, Reala brushed such weakness aside and put forward a brave face. Reala scoffed. "You still haven't answered my question. That's very rude of you."

"Uh, yeah, one sec-"

Another human, this one female, burst through the door. "Tom! Calm down!" She looked at Reala, smiling brightly. "Thank goodness, you're finally conscious!"

"Finally?" asked Reala, confused.

The female human nodded. "I found you six days ago. You've been out cold the entire time."

Sheyrl smiled at the being in the bed. She was so glad he was awake, and seemed to be doing just fine. She still couldn't believe Tom had agreed to help her, seeing as when she brought the creature in…

* * *

Sheyrl had no idea what to do. She knew she was going to take the demon thing to an empty room in E hall, but how on Earth would she get him there without being seen? Sheyrl didn't know much about the creature, but she knew most people wouldn't take too kindly to something that didn't seem of this planet.

Sheyrl looked to the sleeping creature in her arms. For all his bulk, he was surprisingly light. Though he was still bleeding, the flow had considerably slowed.

Sheyrl walked around to the back of the building. She laid the jester down carefully behind the dumpsters to hide him from view. She sprinted inside the building, brushing past doctors while quickly switching back into her nurse uniform. She beelined for the stretchers.

"Sheyrl! What are you doing back here?"

_Crap. s_he thought. It was Tom.

"Oh, nothing! Just… seeing to a few last minute things I forgot about."

"Well, do you need help?"

"No!" she barked. She laughed nervously, continuing, "I mean, no. Thank you, but I'm all good here."

Tom looked very confused. "Are you sure?"

Sheryl was struggling, maneuvering the stretcher down the hall clumsily. "Yep! Positive. Just go back to whatever it is you trainers-in-training do. I'll see you tomorrow!"

Tom stopped following her as she rounded another corner. "Okay?"

Sheyrl sighed. _This is so nerve-wracking! I'll have to get something to cover him up, maybe a doctor's jacket, or-_

"Ah!" Sheyrl yelped as something touched her shoulder. Her heart beat was racing, but she sighed as she realized who it was. "Tom! You scared me-"

"Sherri, are you okay? You seem really... on edge."

Sheyrl smiled sweetly, trying to calm her heart. "Tommy, really. I'm fine. Okay?"

Tom crossed his arms.

Sheryl just huffed through her nose, and pushed the stretcher out into the back parking lot. "Go away, Tom!" she called over her shoulder.

She waited until she heard the door shut to race over to where she had laid Reala. Thankfully, he was still there and still breathing.

She laid him gently on the stretcher, having to maneuver his horns a bit so his head could rest flat. She laid her jacket over him, adjusting it so that the sleeves hid the horns from sight. She was quite satisfied with her work.

She hurried the stretcher into the building, through the back halls, up the empty elevator. She was almost home free, when-

_Ding_!

The creaky old deathtrap they called an elevator made a pleasant sound as it opened.

But standing there, on the other side, was Tom.

_Me and my great luck. _thought Sheyrl with an inward groan.

Tom did not look happy.

"H-hey, Tom!"

"Sheyrl," he replied curtly.

"Aw, c'mon Tom, you're mad at me?"

"No."

"Liar."

"I wouldn't be calling _me_ a liar, Sheyrl!"

"You're hiding something from me," he continued, "I know it!"

Sheyrl looked to the side and down. "No, I'm not," she said in a hushed voice.

Tom looked to the stretcher. "What's-"

"No!"

"But there's-"

"It's a secret!"

"Can't you tell me?"

"Yes, but not now!"

"Well, why not?"

"Eh, because… I'll tell you some other time!"

Sheyrl tried to push her way past Tom. He blocked her exit, and pushed both the stretcher and himself into the elevator.

"What are you doing?" groaned Sheyrl as the elevator closed and descended.

"I want answers!" shouted Tom. As he did this, he stepped on one of Sheyrl's jacket sleeves. The coat fell off Reala, and onto the floor.

Blink.

Blink.

"WHAT THE-"

_Ding_!

The elevator door opened. Sheyrl swished in front of Tom and the stretcher and Reala, her arms spread as wide as the smile on her face. The people expecting to get on the elevator stared. "Nothing to see here, folks. This elevator's taken!" said Sheyrl.

She pushed a random button, and the doors slid shut.

Tom was pressed up into a corner of the elevator, as far away from the stretcher as he could get.

"Sheyrl, what is that!"

"I don't know!"

"Well, what's it doing in the hospital?"

"He needed help!"

"It's an _alien_! A real live alien!"

"Yeah, I know."

Sheyrl, what were you thinking? IT COULD EAT US!"

"Relax, it seemed… nice enough."

"How would you know?"

"I don't know what happened, but it kind of… tried to kill me."

"OH! So that makes it _nice_!"

"No, no! It ended up saving me, though. I just couldn't leave him there, he would have died!"

"Well, maybe it was _supposed_ to die!"

"You're a _doctor_, Tom. It's your _job_ to keep things from _dying_!"

_Ding_!

Again the elevator opened. Again, Sheyrl blocked the elevator's contents from view and pressed another random button. "You're all just gonna have to wait a bit more. Sorry!"

Tom took a deep breath. "Well, whatever it is, I'm reporting it."

"_What_?"

"To the FBI, or CIA, or Area 51 or something! That's where aliens to try to _kill_ people _go_!"

"No." Sheyrl stepped between Tom and Reala. "Look, if he turns out to be bad, fine. But, can't we just keep it a secret? I don't what the world to be thrown into any more of a tizzy."

"But, Sheyrl-"

_Ding_!

"SORRY!"

Sheyrl drew a deep sigh as the elevator closed for the third time.

"Tom," she pleaded, "give him a chance!"

Tom looked at Sheyrl, then at Reala, then back at Sheyrl.

Then back at Reala.

He gulped.

"Sheyrl," he chuckled, "only for you."

Sheyrl's eyes lit up. "Thank you, Tom!" She ran into Tom's arms, startling him. He stared awkwardly at the woman that was wrapped around his chest. "Only for you." He hugged her back.

"Now," she stated, pulling away, "We need to get him to an empty room. I was thinking top floor, in the north wing - you know, the children's section? - then we should get him an IV and-"

Tom watched her as she rattled off instructions. _She was the kindest heart…_

"-and as you can tell, his leg's in pretty bad shape. We'll have to get a cast for that-"

_And the way her eyes just darted around the room in the cutest way…_

"-we'll have to do something about those… things. Do you think they're horns, or what?"

_She was so…_

"Tom?"

"Ah!" he snapped back to attention. Color flushed his cheeks, and he ran his hand through his hair nervously. "What did you say?"

Sheyrl groaned. "You weren't even paying attention."

Tom ruffled her hair. "Don't fret, Sher-bear. We'll fix it up right."

"You mean 'him.'"

"Sure. Whatever."

* * *

Sheyrl shook her head at the memory. Though he had agreed to keep the secret safe and even help her with the things she wasn't so good at, he was still completely and utterly unnerved by the creature. _He wasn't scared a bit when he was unconscious…_

* * *

"Alright," started Tom, fully dressed in his doctor gear, "we should probably put a cast on that leg, then bandage its broken ribs. The rest of the cuts don't seem as major, so we can attend to those later."

"Right," agreed Sheyrl.

They had already laid Reala on a table and removed his gauntlets and… gloves? The sharp yellow claws underneath the tight while covering surprised both Tom and Sheyrl. They had attached an IV to his arm after having extreme difficulty finding a vein.

Seeing as he had no wrists.

They both hesitated. To cast the leg, they'd have to… well…

"Look, I'll do it," said Tom. "You said it's a he, right? Well, so am I."

"Alright. Thanks." Sheyrl left the room to go get the materials for the cast.

Very gingerly, Tom cut away what was left of Reala's tight white pants. The cast would have to go all the way up the thigh…

With a gulp, he took all of it away, surprised again at Reala's pale blue skin. And with his complete lack of… erm, boy parts.

The shoes were a bit more difficult to remove. The decorated red outer cover slipped off easily enough, but the black wrap material underneath was thick as steel fibers. They finally came off after a _lot_ of shimmying.

_This thing is so fascinating..._ thought Tom. He grabbed his clipboard and started taking notes.

The flank plates were the next to go. Then the ruff and feathers and necklace. _Why would it be wearing a ruff of all things? It's dressed like some old English mime warlord. _The ruff stretched, and slipped easily off the creature's head. When Tom went to take off his necklace, he noticed Reala's lack of a neck.

_No nose, no wrists, no neck. Interesting. _He jotted this down on the clipboard. "Y'know, if you had all your missing parts, and got rid of those horn things, you could almost pass as a human," he remarked to the unconscious body.

Vest - gone.

Black torso wrappings - gone.

Remains of white bodysuit - gone.

The creature also had three diamonds tattooed onto his built chest. They were all the same size, and outlined black, but were filled with different colors. The top was blue, the middle was indigo, and the bottom was red.

Someone knocked on the door - one slow knock, then three fast ones. That was the secret knock Sheryl and Tom had devised many years ago, when they were still children. Tom unlocked the door and let her in.

Her arms were overflowing with gauze and glue and all other supplies they would need.

"Here, let me help," offered Tom.

"M'kay."

Sheyrl went to Reala's side and looked him over. She was staring mostly at his absent neck. "He's missing a lot of parts," she joked. "There was a lot goin' on under the wraps, huh? I wonder how he even breathes…" Then she looked lower. "Hmm. Guess he really _is_ an it." Her fingers just dusted over his stomach. "And no belly button. What's with the blue skin?" she questioned.

"Sherri, the cast?"

"Oh, right!"

They set to work, sewing up his flesh, resetting split bones. The job seemed almost too easy, as if the creature's leg was healing on its own.

They cleaned off his chest and wrapped it tight.

The worst was over. He was out of harm's way, and hopefully on the road to recovery.

Tom had left a few moments ago to get them both some coffee. Sheyrl was just finishing up his smaller cuts. She took a medicine-soaked cloth and dabbed at a scrape on his left cheek. When she went to put on the bandage, she noticed something.

His white face was really blue, like the rest of his body!

She hurried to get a clean, wet cloth. She carefully wiped at the rest of his face, slowly but surely removing the thick makeup.

When the white face paint and black eye shadow was gone, she dabbed at his lips.

_Nope, not makeup_.

Then she tried to clean the lines over his eyes.

"Those aren't makeup, either…"

Just then, Tom knocked. She let him in, and they both took a seat at a different table in the corner of the room.

There wasn't much to say. Hey both tiredly sipped their coffee, content to take in the peaceful silence.

Finally, the question on Sherri's tongue danced into words.

"Hey, Tom?"

"Hm?"

"What do you suppose those are?"

"The horns?"

"No- well, yes, but no. I mean the lines."

He contemplated. "At first, I thought they were markings or something. Kinda looked like mime's makeup, to me. But then you got rid of the white stuff…" he leaned back in his chair. "They're not natural, like the diamonds on its chest. They look more like scars."

* * *

And now, six days later, after all the tests, trials, bandage changes, and unanswered questions - he was awake.

Sheyrl was almost estatic.

"Is this the Waking World?" asked the creature.

Sherri shrugged. "I suppose. This is Earth."

"So, this _is_ the Waking World." Reala sat back and sighed. "I never thought in all my years I would make it here before Master Wize- no, Wizeman. _Just_ Wizeman."

Sheyrl tried not to look too confused. "So… are you an alien?"

"Alien?" Reala laughed. "No, I am no alien. I am a Nightmaren." he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Huh. Okay, then."

Sheyrl seemed to be taking all this rather well. Tom, on the other hand, looked about to wet his pants.

Tom took a deep breath. "So," he said squeaked, but then he cleared his throat and continued. "So, you're a Nightmaren. Fine. I can go with that. Just, pray tell," he asked, "what is a Nightmaren?"

The Nightmaren was looking at him almost condescendingly. Tom wanted to just turn this thing over to the FBI and forget this ever happened. _God, I mean, _those eyes_. They're bigger than my fist!_

"A Nightmaren," he began, "is a creature created by Master- no. A Nightmaren is a creature created by Wizeman in the realm of Nightmare."

"You mean, like bad dreams?" cut in Sherri.

"Of course." said Reala. "Where did you think nightmares came from? Certainly, you didn't think your feeble minds were the things spinning your dreams, did you?"

Sheryl blanched. "Well, I, um…"

Reala smirked. "Visitors. I still can't see how NiGHTS puts up with your lot, you're all so dense."

"Hey!" shouted Tom. "It's not our fault we're the first humans to encounter one of your species!"

Reala rolled his eyes at Tom. "You're not. That privilege has already been bestowed to four _children_." He closed his eyes, contemplative. "Besides, you have more than likely run across me in the past. I _am_ one of the reasons nightmares are such a scary thing for you humans."

"Really? But, I've never even fathomed anything like you-"

"You see, that's the beauty of it." Reala held up a finger, as if informing them of a grand secret. "In Nightmare, I can take the shape of anything I please. I have the ability to see directly into a person's heart and see their deepest, darkest fears and desires. I can also see their Ideya." He pointed at Sheyrl. "You have managed to hold on to your Ideyas of Hope, Courage, and Purity. Congratulations." He now pointed at Tom. "You're a pathetic little 'one.' You have only the Ideya of Intelligence." He paused, looking at his claws. "Had we met under… different conditions, I would have taken them from the both of you, which would have prevented you from ever having a pleasant dream again, and also resulting in losing your passion for life, forcing you to become mindless, self-centered sheep along with the majority of humanity." His explanation being finished, he looked over the two human's faces of shock. "Any more questions?"

Sheyrl shuddered, slightly shaken by the blunt explanation. "Yes, actually. What is your name?"

The jester smiled, gesturing grandly to himself with a slight bow of the head. "I am Reala."

The female human smiled. "That's a… different name. But, what was I expecting?" She extended her hand. "I'm Sheyrl!"

Reala stared at the hand.

"Maybe not." she grimaced as she pulled her hand back. "He's Tom." She thumbed in Tom's direction.

"H-hi."

"Yes, hello. And you _still_ haven't answered my question."

"What question would that be?" asked Sheryl.

"I was wondering where I was. More specific than the Waking World, if you don't mind." said Reala sarcastically.

_He seems like _such _a plesant person... thing... Nightmaren. _Sheyrl through sarcastically. "Oh, this is D.E. Day Hospital in New York City, America."

"A hospital?" Reala looked around the room. "But this doesn't seem like a terrible place…"

"Excuse me?"

"The only experience I've had with hospitals is using them as a backdrop of nightmares."

"Oh, no! I mean, people _do_ die in hospitals, but there are miracles that happen here, too."

Reala pondered this. He craned his head back to look out the window behind his bed.

"I-I'm gonna go get some, er, stuff…" Tom made his less then graceful exit.

"Well, Reala," stated Sheyrl with a smile, "I have a lot of questions. But first, you're going to rest. You've been through a lot, surely, so just take it easy, alright?"

She received no answer. She turned to leave, but was stopped by Reala's voice.

"I suppose I will answer your questions. I owe you that much for saving my life."

"Don't worry about it."

Silence.

"I have another question," said Reala, not turning away from the window.

"Fire away!"

"Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why did you help me? I tried to steal your Ideya. You should have left me."

Sherri smiled. "I couldn't just let you die."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I suppose it's because I'm a nurse. I hate to see _anything_ suffering."

"…I never thought I would say this to a pathetic Visitor, but thank you."

"You're welcome, I guess."

"How long am I going to be confined here?"

Sheyrl cringed at his spiteful description of his resting. "It depends. Injuries like yours do take a while to heal."

"So a week, then?" said Reala with a grimace.

"A week? No, more like several months!"

"WHAT!" Reala snapped.

"You fractured your leg in two places!" replied Sheyrl. "You have four broken ribs and several other sprains and cuts. You can't expect to be back to full strength in a mere _week_!"

Reala frowned. "I heal very fast, human."

"But certainly not with these injuries!"

"I wouldn't know. I've never been this incapacitated before."

"Don't they have doctors back in Nightmare?" answered Sheyrl, annoyance in her eyes.

Reala looked away. "No. Anyone _this_ _useless_ would be destroyed."

Sheyrl felt terrible. "Oh."

"Master Wizeman doesn't tolerate failures," Reala spat, so much venom in his voice he could have easily been a black mamba.

By now, Sheryl's curiosity was almost _painful_ to keep at bay. "I'll just… don't worry. The time will fly by. I'll be back to check up on you at lunchtime." She put the TV remote back on the bedside table. "Um, if you want to watch TV…" She backed up under Reala's stare. "Or if you want to call anyone..." She groaned inwardly. _Now _why_ would he have anyone to call? _Think_, Sherri!_

She heard something growl. For a second she thought it was Reala. He _did_ look very likely to growl. She did a double take to find it was his stomach doing the growling!

"You're hungry!"

"Of course. You would be hungry too, if you had to go days without a real meal," he deadpanned.

"Right… I'll go get you something."

He mumbled "Stupid Visitor" under his breath as she walked out the door.

Sheyrl passed Tom in the hall. He was carrying two cups of coffee. The dark liquid was experiencing an earthquake in Tom's nervous hands. She accepted a cup, and took a sip, mulling over this week's larger than life events.

Reala was most definitely the most interesting patient she'd ever had.

This_ is going to be a joy._ Reala thought sarcastically. He shifted, becoming increasingly frustrated at his situation. _What am I going to do? I'm stuck in a human hospital, being nursed for by two pathetic humans who actually managed to save my life, and I have no contact with the Night Dimension or… or… _He groaned. "NiGHTS… what have you gotten us into?"

"NiGHTS...

I promise, I swear, on my life that I will find you. I'll make things right."

.:ACT 3, SCENE 1 - FIN:.

* * *

**Please review. It's you guys who keep me going! And I'm thinking of doing a little reward to motivate both you and me - the 50th reviewer gets a no-strings-attatched oneshot of their own idea, written by me.**

**Gratzi!**

**smileyfox5150**


	8. The Story

**Hello! So, I'd just like to say to Maren570 - Thanks, but I'm not going to be using fan characters. **

* * *

_Don't wake me, 'cause I don't want to leave this dream. _

_Don't wake me, we're happy like we used to be. _

_- Skillet, Don't Wake Me._

.:THE STORY:.

In the still night air, people were strolling through Central Park as they usually do. It was later in the evening, and the sun had descended from the sky.

Lieutenant Perry had left with NiGHTS just minutes ago. He had been able to carry NiGHTS all the way to his police car, which was parked at the station that was on the outskirts of the park, without confrontation. He laid her down gently in the back seat, his eyes roaming her face one more time. Her pale, smooth face seemed much more peaceful, instead of screwed up from the nightmare.

He sighed and laid his jacket over her still body.

Jonah climbed into the front seat as Jessie jumped into shotgun and quietly drove away, the questions on his mind distracting him from the world around him.

And a good thing, too, for the thief who was now just leaving as well.

Her dull blue eyes darted around as she left her hide out. She had changed clothes, now wearing the typical attire of any teenager - skinny jeans, a t-shirt, and light jacket. Unnoticeable enough. If anyone did happen to ask her what she was doing, she could always give them the usual spiel - Dad forgot something at work, he's busy with the kids, so he sent me. Simple (and effective). Quickly, she raced towards home, just reaching the parks exit in time to see her father hop in to the driver seat of his undercover police cruiser.

Yes. Her own father was the same one chasing her down earlier that day.

Silent as a bat, she latched on to the car's fender. She knew the way he would take home, down a few back streets with no traffic, and really this was a big plus. Now, she wouldn't have to put in the effort skating home.

Though it wasn't uncommon for her dad to stay at work late, something seemed… off. Usually, he went home to check on the girls, went back to the station, and didn't return until midnight. And though she did not know what time it was exactly, it surely wasn't _that_ late. There were other little things she noticed, too. Like the way he was driving. He was usually _painfully_ considerate of other drivers, but tonight, he just kept going instead of stopping to that the old lady who had been waiting to turn left could go ahead.

She just chalked it all up to a hard day at work. _I mean, _the thief scoffed smugly, _they _did_ fail to catch a 'man' on the run. Even _with_ Jess! _

Two little minutes later the car was pulling into the parking complex attached to their building. As he pulled through the raised plastic yellow barrier arm, she popped her skates in and bolted toward the nearest elevator.

* * *

Mr. Perry, to put it lightly, was flipping out.

He had no clue what to do with the unconscious creature in the back of his car. He would have to bring her up to the condo (which meant smuggling her up to the 16th floor) get her a room, and basically play _nursemaid_ until she was out of this coma.

He parked the car on the ninth floor. After fashioning a leash on Jess' collar, he walked around to the back of his car. He lifted NiGHTS out of the back with the coat still draped over her. There was no one around. He walked less then confidently to the elevators, pressed a button, and got in.

There was one other person standing in the far corner of the elevator with his head down. Mr. Perry smiled, trying his best not to look suspicious. "Hello."

The person said nothing.

That person was the thief.

The thief quickly glanced up. _OH SHIT_! She screamed in her head. In front of her, with his head down, was her father, and Jess next to him. But… who was that in his arms…?

She didn't know what scared her more - the fact that she was about to get caught, or the fact that her father might be cheating on her mom.

Mr. Perry walked in and looked to the person next to him. He had his head down, hood up, headphones in. Didn't seem much for socializing. But, politely as he could, he said, "Sorry. She," he hefted NiGHTS a bit in his arms. "had a… a few too many drinks tonight." He chuckled nervously. The unfriendly Goth grunted a little, keeping to his self. Mr. Perry pressed his lips together awkwardly, breathing a sigh through his nose.

The Goth pressed the button for the 11st floor. They were currently on the 10th.

When they reached the next floor, the Goth left without a word, quickly and with his head down.

After the doors closed, Mr. Perry tut-tutted. "Some people."

The thief threw off her hood and sprinted down the hall. She was going so fast, she was sure that she would just fly into the wall as she rounded the corner. She scanned the labels on the doors, searching for her last hope -

The stairs.

She had never climbed the stairs so fast. Heck, she doubted anyone had even climbed five floors faster than she did that night.

She fished her key card out of her back pocket and swiped it, opening the door. Before she shut it, she heard the elevators _ding_ open down the hall.

She dashed for her room, pulling her clothes off and throwing them under her bed. She grabbed a pair of fleece pants and a tee out of the top dresser drawer and jumped on to her bed. She heard the dook open with a soft _click_. She sprayed on some perfume to mask the musty scent of her hideout, let down her hair, and grabbed a random book from the shelf just as her father opened the door to her room.

"Hey there, Haley."

The thief, Haley, stared back at him unemotionally. "Hi," she said, sounding like a usual bored teen.

Mr. Perry smiled. "Thanks for putting the kids t'bed."

He was, of course, referring to her little triplet siblings, Kaitlin, Emile, and Molly. Haley just decided to go along with it. "Yeah… no problem."

Her father coughed a little. "Say… would you happen to know where we put that old cot we used to have…?"

Haley nodded. "Yeah. Triplet's room, under the bunk bed."

"Thanks." Mr. Perry stepped into the room a little. "Whatcha reading?"

"Oh… y'know…" She waggled the book back and forth a little, concomitantly.

Mr. Perry smirked. "You're reading 'Sense and Sensibility' upside down?"

Haley gagged and quickly turned it around. "Heh, oops."

Mr. Perry smiled. "Night, love."

Haley was still shaking after he shut the door. "Yeah… night…" She paused, and fell back into the covers with pure and utter relief.

After Mr. Perry had said goodnight, he crept over the triplet's room. Inside it was dark, and three bundles spelt peacefully. Mr. Perry tucked the one of the bottom bunk, Molly, in a little tighter and carefully eased a gray cot out from underneath.

While moving to the extra room, the one his wife used as her office, Jonah looked over at where he had laid NiGHTS down on a small suede couch.

_Still asleep._

Carefully, he creaked open the door to the office. In the dark, he heard a stack of papers fall over. The different mountainous stacks of books and papers and baskets made it hard to manuver with the cumbersome cot. Trying his hardest not to trip, he leaned over and flicked on the light switch.

As the soft yellow light spilled over the cluttered room, in the corner of his eye Mr. Perry saw something dash at him. He flinched as the shadow went out of his field of vision, out the door.

Mr. Perry looked around. "What was that?" After a moment, he shrugged. "Probably nothing."

He moved in a little more to the stack that had toppled over. As he picked them up, he noticed a small brown paper package tied in white string among the mess. Looking at it closer, he saw that there was no name or address on it. Without a care, he set it on top of the now organized pile.

He cleared a space among the papers and set up the cot. He put NiGHTS down, gently, and rubbed his forehead. He didn't have to worry about his wife coming home and seeing her. His wife, Mrs. Perry, was an all-business businesswoman who made money from travelling. If she ever _did_ stop at home, it was just to drop off another stack of papers to store in her 'office.'

Tired, he sat down on the couch, mulling over the day's events in his mind.

Every hour for three hours, he went in to check on her. Check her temperature, check her breathing, try to wake her up. And every hour he would pick up the phone, dial the NYPD, and hang up before the other line would even ring.

"What are you?"

"I am… well… oh, Owl was so much better at this than me!" NiGHTS rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "I… I guess I am…"

_Should tell them? I should, but…_

"I'm NiGHTS, from the world of dreams." She bowed grandly, sweeping her arm down as if she had just preformed an opera.

"Dreams," stated Mr. Perry.

"Sure. That's where you go after you fall asleep."

"Right."

"We call it the Night Dimension. And your world - this world - is the Waking world."

"So… you're Nights, right?"

"No. my name is NiGHTS."

"That's what I said-"

"No! you said it big N, little i-g-h-t-s. My name is big N little i big G-H-T-S."

"So… NiGHTS?"

"There you go!" she smiled.

My. Perry rubbed his forehead. "So… you said Owl. There are more of you?"

"Yes!" said NiGHTS brightly. She thought a moment. "Well, no. Well, sort of." Nights looked to the ground. "Owl isn't… like me. He's the Gatekeeper."

"Is he an owl?"

"No," NiGHTS piped, "he's just Owl. Not 'an owl.' What's 'an owl?'"

"What I mean is," Mr. Perry whipped out his Blackberry, "Does he look like this?" On the screen was a Google image search of a great horned owl.

"Yes! But not so… scary. And he has a petticoat and eyeglass. And he's much... plumper," she giggled.

"So you're a… dream being?"

Nights bit the inside of her cheek, eyes darting to the side. "…yes."

"And you're from dreamland-"

"The Night Dimension." she pointed out.

"Whatever!" he barked. "And you have a friend, named Owl, who _is_ an owl, but you are here because…?"

"To tell you the truth, I'm not exactly sure. One moment we were in the Aqua Gardens - A Nightopia in the Night Dimension - having a party for Reala, and the next, pfft! I'm in that… awful… place," she shuddered, closing in on herself.

"Who's Reala? Another owl?"

"Reala is…" she began brightly. "Well, he's my…" She crossed her legs huffily. "Oh, why is this so hard?"

she moaned. "Reala is… like me? I guess. But he, well, he and I, it's just that… oh no."

Jonah slumped into an armchair across from her. "Boy trouble?"

"No! It's nothing like that!" started NiGHTS, frantically waving her hands. "It's just we used to be close, but some… problems arose and for awhile things were pretty hostile between me and him… and every Nightmaren in creation…"

"What is a Nightmaren?"

She shuddered. "Nightmaren are not good."

NiGHTS sighed. "Just as things were starting to look up. Wizeman was gone. We had the chance to be happy. But now I'm in the Waking World…" She slumped her head down. "Oh, he's gonna KILL Jackle!"

Jonah rubbed his eyes. "Look, NiGHTS, I'm sorry. I know now that you're from an entire different dimension so I should expect other people… beings, there. But you can't just keep throwing around names! I don't know them! I don't know what's going on!" He chuckled a little. "How did you even come into existence? I mean, the scientists! The psychologists! Surely they would have discovered something like this by now…"

NiGHTS chuckled as well. "Our world is nearly inaccessible, and when visitors do show, usually they aren't lucid enough to notice."

She leaned back. "How were we created? Well, finally, a question I can answer."

She moved forward knowingly, hooking Jonah into a stare with her cat's eyes.

"Everybody has a different story of how it all came to be. Visitors have… God, right? Or science? Well, we have a story too." She smiled warmly. "Owl has it written down, folded up in one of his pockets at all times. Whenever I'm exceptionally bored, I make him read it to me. I think I can remember most of it…"

She sat up, cleared her thought, and began.

"_In the beginning, there was the Will. _

_The Will consisted of the hopes and thoughts of beings not yet brought into existence. She floated in the matrix of space, content to venture where she pleased and observe the stars that hung in the distance like millions of lamps lighting the way home. _

_Like all sentient beings, the Will became lonely. She spread her arms and, taking in all kinds of matter and dust, formed the Earth. _

_She then created several smaller beings in a wide variety of shapes and colors to inhabit this beautiful place, each with a small Will of their own. The Will bestowed them with the name 'Human'. Under the Will's careful watch, they multiplied to fill the Earth. Things were good. _

_The Will loved her creations, and knew they would not stray from her guidance. She left the Earth to roam the stars in search of other things to bring back to her lovely Earth. She found a lone red star and placed it near the Earth to give the Humans warmth. She rescued a small, cold star and placed it close to the Earth so that the Humans could gaze upon it and be comforted in the night. She gathered plants and shrubs and all sorts of exotic and wonderful animals to aid her Humans and be of company to them._

_By now, the Will was growing weak. Her creations grew intelligent, and began to forget about her. The Will was terribly saddened, and her great anguish manifested in the minds of her creations. And so the Humans knew sadness._

_But the Will was not ready to give up on her little ones. With her last strength, she created a mirror world where she could rest and regain power. Her little Humans could visit her while they slept, while they were most attuned to their Wills and not their bodies. _

_There she rested. She created Night Humans to help her watch over and protect the dream world. The Night Humans did have their own Wills, but because of the weakened state the Will was in, they were smaller, and simpler. They were not able to communicate as the Humans did, or create amazing things out of their own hands. But they happy, just as the Humans were in the beginning, and floated above their troubles in their marvelous world of dreams. _

_She had fun with her little ones in the dream world, but over time, the number of visitors decreased. The Will was frightened that something had gone horribly wrong. She rushed to the Earth, and was horrified by what she saw. The Humans she had once loved so dearly were now turning upon each other, ruining her Earth and misusing their Wills. She tried to talk to them, turn them back to her, but they had become too deeply rooted into hate and were unable to sense the Will. This caused the Will to cry out in terrible sorrow and once more return to her dream world, weaker than ever. She was deeply saddened by the Humans. _

_She grew angry and resentful, because while he had been on the Earth, the evilness of their Wills had grown on her, making her a representation of the Humans instead of the Humans a representation of her. She had become two persons, one good and kind, the other hateful and evil. The evil grew like a disease, and soon was more powerful than the Will itself. _

_The evil pert of the Will wanted to become wise, as wise as Man. This being became called the Wise Man. It began to attack the Will, and with her last power the Will broke itself into 5 Ideals. To combat the evil of the Wise Man, the Ideals became instilled in all humanity. These Ideals were Courage, Hope, Intelligence, Wisdom, and Purity. What little that was left of the Will stayed in the dream world, in each Night Human, to protect the good left. _

_The Wise Man grew hateful and tried to steal back the Ideals from those on the Earth, but the Will had also created a wall that stopped the Wise Man from fully crossing over. _

_The Wise Man was furious. He learned from his brother's mistake, and created things without their own Wills. Instead of creating beings to match his own image, he made terrible monsters of strange proportions, able to manipulate the dream world and scare the visitors while stealing their Ideals. But, like the Will before him, Wizeman became lonely. _

_In a fit of madness, he created one perfect being to rule beside him, one with its own free Will, looking almost like a Human but almost like the Wise Man's monsters. _

_But…_

NiGHTS paused her story and sighed.

_Instead of one being, two were born. Two perfect beings to rule beside him, each with free Will. They were like two sides of the same coin, so different and yet so similar. One was interested in the dream world, and in the visitors and Night Humans. The other was more interested in the Earth, like his creator. The first he named the Nights, the other, the Reality. Each day he would look upon his twin creations and a strange feeling would come into his chest. That feeling, though the Wise Man did not know, was love. _

_The Nights and the Reality weren't like anything the dream world had ever seen. Strong as the Wise Man's monsters, but as free floating as the Night Humans. Together, under the Wise Man's careful watch, they became experts at taking away Ideals, bringing the dream world down to its knees. Though the Reality was just as wanting of the Earth as the Wise Man, the Nights began to feel differently about their terrible deeds. The Nights became fond of the visitors and Night Humans. Soon, her love for the Ideals surpassed that of her creator, and she left. She would take part in the wicked Wise Man's plan no longer. _

_This caused a terrible madness in Wise Man's black heart. He set the Reality against the Nights to restrain her, but she would not obey. The Reality… the Reality tried to stop him. But he couldn't neither of them could. _

_The Wise Man was unwilling to destroy half of his perfect creation, so he locked her away in a gilded cage. In the fear that the Reality would turn against him, he gave him a golden mask to restrain his free Will. _

_The Wise Man thought that he had gotten rid of the problem. But what the Wise Man did not know was that the Nights had become a part of the original Will. The Will had survived through her, and the powerful red Ideal of Courage was nestled deep in the Nights' heart. The Nights finally understood the true meaning of free Will._

_Now, every so often, a Human would be born with an especially strong Ideal of Courage. That particular Ideal was a gateway into the true dream world, not just the illusion set up by the Wise Man. At the time of the Nights' capture, there were two visitors who possessed the Ideal of Courage, and because of their corresponding Wills, they were able to assimilate their bodies with Nights and give her a strength she had never known before. _

_With the power of the original Will coursing through her, the Nights confronted the Wise Man. Though the battle was long and difficult, at the cost of her own life the Nights was able to defeat the Wise Man, returning peace to the dream world once again."_

NiGHTS folded her hands in her lap. Jonah blinked his eyes, inwardly astounded. He stiffly sat back in the chair and let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Well, that's… interesting."

NiGHTS narrowed her eyes, muttering gruffly.

"Unfortunately, it was a lost cause. Wizeman is the representation of evil in the hearts and minds of the Humans, so he will never be defeated. He will be back."

Jonah gulped. "So… so this Wise Man… he's real?"

"Just as real as I am." NiGHTS folded her arms. "Though I'm not sure how much of it is real. I know the ending of the story is real, but I've never been so sure about the beginning."

.:ACT 3, SCENE 2 - FIN:.

* * *

**It's a cliffy! **

**Review, mk?**

**- smileyox5150**


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